Lost With Vampires Somewhere Deep in a Cave in Romania

Corporal Michael Morrison groaned as he painfully pulled himself up on his elbow to have a look at how much damage he the stalagmite had done to his leg. It had penetrated his right thigh and was pinning his whole leg to the rocky earth of the cave floor.  There was very little blood and, as yet, very little pain from the wound, but Mike knew that pulling out the stalagmite would set the blood gushing and he would probably die within minutes from blood loss.  He was also grimly aware that he was in shock, and that any wrong movement could be potentially fatal.

His little band of vampires had by now clustered around him and were looking down at him with shock and pity on their gray, wasted faces.  Even in his current dire situation, he had to smile to himself.  Who would have thought that a hardened mercenary like himself would have taken a ragged little band of vampires under his wing, protecting them and even becoming fond of them? When he had first come upon them he was shocked because he had been led to believe that the Romanian vampires were bloodthirsty monsters who were out of control and on the rampage.

But his little crew were all gentle souls, who were pathetically grateful that Mike had helped them and they, in turn, gave him all the help they could to lead him out of the twisting tunnels and caverns.  He was also doing things that he would never have dreamed he could do to keep his vampires alive.  He let them feed on him; just enough to keep them going and not enough to turn him.  They in turn helped him find what meagre food and water there was down in the caves. They found him weird and wonderful fungi, insects and showed him how to find the pools where the blind fish swam. Though he wasn’t entirely sure that he needed to know that there were centipedes that big in these caves!  Even though it was tasty enough when roasted on a stick over a small fire made from the moss that grew on the cave walls!

But it was the story that the vampires told him that had shocked him the most.  He had been told of the wars between the vampires, and been led to believe that the Romanian vampires had brought most of the flak that they were getting on themselves by attacking the local human population and ravaging cattle populations.  But Mike had already started to be puzzled by the absence of these monster vampires in the darkness of these caves and he couldn’t see how anyone would be threatened by his little band of waif-like gray creatures comprising of the male vampires Stigson, Gunderd, and Alaris, the two females Anareid and Dilsun and the little girl Mobie. It was Stigson, the leader of their little group who had told him the bulk of their story.

Mike had listened with horror as Stigson told him that although they couldn’t remember much of their previous lives, they had learned that they had been hunted down and kidnapped from the world of men.  They had heard whispers of some head honcho vampire called Lord Kingsteignton, who had developed an injection process that could drain humans of blood and turn them into vampires, but also contained some drug that did not give them all of the strengths and gifts of normal vampires.  Theses artificially turned vampires did not have the blood lust, the preternatural strength and did not have the ability to dematerialise, shape-shift or fly. They also had their memories blanked, so had little knowledge of their identities and who they had previously been.  The vampire wars in Romania it turned out were no more than elaborate spin fed to the media and Old Kingdom groups by Kingsteignton’s minions, in order to cover up his illegal mining and vampire labour camps.

After the turning had been completed, they were brought to the caves of the Carpathian Mountains so they could work as slaves in Kingsteignton’s mines.  They were made to work long hours in the dark; heavy physical labour that pulled their muscles and made their joints ache.  They were offered no recreation or social life, and slept on pallets on the floor when they became too exhausted to carry on working.  As it was so dark in the depths of the caves, the natural cycle of the vampire was disrupted, and they were flogged into working even when the sun was high in the outside world.  Most disgustingly, they were fed on the blood of pigs that were kept in crowded, squalid pens in the labour camps. The pigs were so undernourished and weakened by the lack of sunshine and fresh air, that their blood offered very few nutrients to the starving vampires.

These worker vampires lived in a state of weary resignation. They had never heard of anyone escaping the mines and had no memories of a time before, so could not conjure up in their minds any idea of a future life that they could lead.  But strange things had started to happen in the camps. A loud laugh had been heard echoing though the caves that seemed to spook the labour camp guards, even though they were hardened vampire mercenaries hired by Kingsteignton. Although they had no memory, this laugh unnerved something deep in the cellular memory of the worker vampires and when the sound of grating stones started, they had become thoroughly unnerved and unsettled.

But Stigson had started to scent an opportunity in the sense of panic that was beginning to settle around the camp. He ordered his work group to start hoarding some of their precious ration of bladders of pigs’ blood, and one day, when the supernatural laughter had been particularly maniacal, they had slipped away down one of the side passages, heading for the surface. The pursuit by the camp’s bloodhounds that they had been dreading had failed to materialise, such was the panic in the camp. So the ragged little band had climbed ever upwards, with their blood supplies getting lower and lower until they had their fateful encounter with Mike.

But now lying pinned to the cave floor by the stalagmite, blood oozing out of the wound, Mike started to shiver and the anxious eyes staring down into his began to blur and waver......

Will The Real Lord Kingsteignton Please Step Forward?

The little vampire put his head coyly to one side and looked up at Roland through strangely thick, dark lashes.

‘Well, as you know De Cazalrenoux, it’s a brutal world if you are one of the movers and shakers of the Old Kingdom. Vampires are vain creatures, and will usually only sire offspring on fit, good looking humans, but my sire was a perverse creature. He came across a strange looking human child, and thought it would be funny to create a vampire from this unpromising clay. Of course, what he didn’t know was that although the child had physical peculiarities, it was also uniquely intelligent and a cruel, merciless sociopath. The change into a vampire only boosted both the intelligence and the cruelty. As I came into my own as a vampire leader, I decided that I needed to match my mental acuity and leadership skills, with a handsome, attractive outer shell. I commissioned some of the finest artisans of their time to build the outer body that you can see sitting at the table, creating the features and physique that I wanted. Unlike, the Antonescu substitute, my outer persona is far more intricately linked with me. I actually spend most of my time lying in my coffin as I can fully inhabit my shell, see through his eyes, feel the sensations of his body and even taste the blood! The shell also has the advantage of being able to operate in the daylight hours if I want it to, although I have to be careful about not encountering anyone I know, don’t want the whole world to know my secret!’

‘But how?’ asked Vlad, looking confused and revolted at the same time.

‘You really don’t think that I am going to tell you that’ tittered Kingsteignton ‘And if you are thinking that I am vulnerable when I am in my coffin, and that you can attack me there, trust me you will never find it, and if you ever did you would never get to me!’

Roland raised an aristocratic eyebrow.

‘A bit paranoid Kingsteignton, why would we want to attack you? Don’t judge us all by your standards. All I want is to know what you have done with my pack member Kea, and Vladimirescu here, for some reason, just wants the smelly human back. You can keep the Antonescu thing with both our blessings’
.
‘As I said, still obsessed by irrelevancies De Cazalrenoux, what does one little werewolf matter, when the entire fate of the Old Kingdom hangs in the balance!’

‘Why are you always so dramatic Kingsteignton? The only threat to the Old Kingdom that I can currently see is you; you have a very strange enthusiasm for destroying your own kind and you could easily pull some strings to take the heat off your Romanian cousins. Quite frankly, the welfare of my pack comes first with me, and if one of my clan is lost, I will find them!’

‘I agree that the internal politics of us vampires is none of your concern, De Cazalrenoux, but I assure you that something bigger than all of our petty concerns is stirring, and it threatens not only the Old Kingdom, but the human world which you seem to cherish so much for some unaccountable reason!’

‘Proof, Kingsteignton, proof!’ jeered Roland ‘You’re beginning to sound like a broken record. Strangely enough I don’t trust you, and I already feel that I have been manipulated enough!’

Kingsteignton sighed heavily.

‘Do you remember that time back at the Club when my shell lost the plot, and started behaving in a manner totally unbecoming to the persona that I wish to project to the world? Well for the first time ever I had lost control. Much as it humiliates me to say so, I could no longer see through my eyes on the world and did not have a clue what was going on. Something or someone had interfered and had cut the connection. I used the inbuilt tracking device to follow the shell back to Vladimirescu’s house and retrieved it. Sorry about the gas and the manhandling Vladimirescu, but I knew that you would not have been reasonable about giving the shell back’.

Vlad snorted at this jibe.

‘But when I got the shell back and viewed the memory cells, I unfortunately became aware of exactly who had taken over the shell and my worst suspicions were confirmed. What little blood I have ran even colder and even the basic cells of the shell were terrified, for chrissakes! There have been rumours from the Romanian caves for some time, and the signs have been growing, he is rising, Gentlemen, he is rising and we must stop him, or it will be the end of us all!’

And a hollow laugh echoed through the deepest caves of the Carpathian Mountains. Stalagmites thousands of years old shuddered and cracked, one of which speared Corporal Michael Morrison through the leg, pinning him to the floor of the cave and halting his vampire companions in their tracks in horror.

Roland's Little Nightmare

‘You know gentlemen, it is considered as polite to reply when someone greets you’ lisped the strange little vampire in his thin, reedy voice ‘and also you two gentlemen are usually never short of something to say; especially you Vladimirescu, you have a tendency to witter on interminably!’

Even this barb didn’t seem to penetrate Vlad’s dull incomprehension at what he was seeing and hearing, and he continued to stare at the strange creature incredulously. Roland was somewhat quicker to recover, and grabbed Kingsteignton’s proffered hand, but instead of shaking it, he held it up to examine it. The little vampire seemed to be amused rather than offended or scared, and watched Roland with interest as he turned the hand over and examined it all over and finished by carefully sniffing it. Kingsteignton knew that werewolves relied on their sense of smell far more than their other senses, and that Roland would have absorbed a world of information about him through those few, exploratory sniffs.

Roland though found himself to be faintly repulsed by his thorough examination of the vampire’s hand. The hand was no bigger than a child’s, with soft, smooth, abnormally white skin and long lacquered nails. There was a crude gold ring on the third finger, set with a large, dull, unpolished diamond and the scent hadn’t been right. It was definitely vampire, but instead of the usual sour vampire odour, there was a hint of something almost sweet, like talcum powder, that overlaid it.

He carefully released Kingsteignton’s hand and looked him straight in the eye.
‘I am really tired, really hungry, and wearing incredibly bad, uncomfortable clothes, which tends to make me want to rip throats out. I am also fed up with being lied to and have been led up so many different garden paths in the last day or so that I might as well have gone on a day trip to Kew Gardens. You have three seconds to start with some straight talking before I get physical’ growled Roland.

The strange vampire merely tittered.

‘Sorry to strain your brain so early in the morning, De Cazalrenoux, but there really is no need for any threat of violence. As you will see, everything is really quite simple and, as they say, all will soon be revealed’.

‘Quite simple?’ queried Roland rolling his eyes and casting his eyes over the three inert figures who were still trapped in their robotic poses ‘Why don’t you start by explaining what is going on with those three’.

‘Typical, start with the irrelevancies’ replied Kingsteignton wearily ‘But if you must. The annoying, smelly human is merely hypnotised and in a deep trance. He thinks that he is so clever, because he can resist the glamour of a vampire, but went under with a blink of an eye. Do want me to bring him out?’

‘No if it is going to start yabbering on again, no. Leave him how he is for now, he will only immediately recommence clogging up his arteries with those fries as soon as he is back with us’ retorted Roland.

Vlad seemed to spring back to life at Roland’s cavalier dismissal of the suggestion that Mike Costello be restored to his full awareness.

‘Roland, we came here to save Mike! We can’t abandon him now!’

‘We’re not abandoning him, we are merely ensuring that we don’t have to listen to him for a little while longer’ soothed Roland ‘Now what about the other two?’

Kingsteignton simpered a little at this question.

‘Well, that’s where some of the clever stuff starts coming in. The vampire that you have been calling Antonescu is what you might call a substitute. We took a vampire that fitted Antonescu’s vague description, wiped his memory and replaced it with some fairly basic memories and information that the real Count would know, did a bit of basic programming and sent him in. Of course, you Vladimirescu were far too disorganised as usual to check him out. A bit of basic fact finding would have told you that the real Count Antonescu is still in some Romanian cave fighting for his existence’.

‘But why?’ retorted Vlad, horrified.

‘Oh, only to gather more information. We have had your place wired for ages, but this is a far more direct method, as I could get Antonescu to ask specific questions or behave in certain ways to influence what was going on’.

Roland’s head was beginning to spin. How weird could vampires get? Would he ever work out what made them tick?

‘I really think that I am going to regret asking, but what about the third one? The one we have been calling Lord Kingsteignton for several centuries?’

Just a Bunch of Dummies

Roland felt strangely detached as he watched Vladimirescu gulping and trying to regain his composure. The past twenty four hours had just been too strange – he felt that he had experienced every emotion that a werewolf was capable of and that he was trapped in some horrible joke that he couldn’t find his way out of.

Costello, Antonescu and Kingsteignton just remained where they were, not moving and with a completely blank look in their eyes. It was like someone had pulled a plug and they had just shut down like robots or computers. The big question in Roland’s mind was whether they had been hypnotised or had had a spell cast on them and were subsequently being controlled by someone else? Or was it that they had never been real people at all, but were just plants sent into their lives to gain information or influence events in a certain way? In either case, who was doing the controlling and why?

‘So what do you think, Vladimirescu?’ Roland asked abruptly, startling the shocked vampire out of his reverie.

Vlad turned to face Roland, and tried to pull himself together.

‘I don’t know what to think’ he whispered ‘I just don’t know what is real anymore. Are you even really De Cazalrenoux, are you really a werewolf?’

Roland growled low in his throat, allowing his canines to drop down in his gums and the red tufts of fur to sprout once more from his ears. It was getting ridiculous; he had half-turned so many times in the last few hours that at this rate he would get permanently stuck there, and then what would happen to his high-flying career and equally high-flying love life? Hairy ginger ears were not a common sight in a Mayfair nightclub!

‘If I ripped your throat out, would that be proof enough that I was a werewolf?’ he snarled.

Vlad merely looked irritated by this testosterone-fuelled display of werewolfhood.

‘For god’s sake De Cazalrenoux, can’t you put your inflated ego away for one minute, so that we can actually get on with working out what the hell is going on here!’

Roland was taken aback by this flash of assertion from Vlad, and resumed his fully human form although he still looked stormy.

‘Well, I think that one of the first things that we must do is search this house from top to bottom and see if there is anyone else here that we can get some information from. Even if we have to throttle the truth out of them!’ stated Vlad in a cold, flat tone.

Roland lifted an aristocratic eyebrow at this statement, slightly startled at the sudden appearance of this new, assertive Vlad.

‘Well I can tell you that from the scent signatures on this floor that there has only been vampires here and that one, not particularly hygienic, human. I know when Antonescu entered your life, but how long have you known Mike Costello?’ queried Roland.

Vlad frowned as he cast his mind back.

‘I met Mike about two years ago. He came and knocked on my front door, bold as brass, and demanded to be let in. He told me about the paranormal blog he wrote, and that he had been given a tip off that the house was a vampire lair. Come to think about, he never did say where the tip off came from, but I am convinced he is a real human. He acted like a human, smelled like a human and had a human vibration. I’ve never seen anything like this morning’s display before from Mike; he was always so boisterous and full of life and real, if you know what I mean?’

‘Only too well’ replied Roland wrinkling his nose in distaste as he turned in Costello’s direction.

‘And how well do you know Kingsteignton?’ countered Vlad.

‘Well the pack has had dealings with Kingsteignton for several centuries, and usually not very pleasant ones! But he is quite an elusive character, and I have never had too many personal encounters with him. He is basically a coward who prefers to get other people to do his dirty work for him!’

‘It’s like trying to grab hold of jelly from a bowl’ declared Vlad randomly and both the Old Kingdomers momentarily became lost in their own thoughts.

The creaking of the room door opening snapped them both back to their full awareness and their jaws dropped to the floor at the sight the creature that minced into the room.

‘Definitely a vampire’ thought Roland sniffing the creature’s scent ‘but the strangest vampire that I have ever come across’.

The creature came to a halt in front of Vlad and Roland, who didn’t try to hide their astonishment as they just stared. This bizarre vampire was only about 4ft 11in tall, with a diminutive, wiry frame. His hands and feet seemed to be disproportionally large for his body, and he had a very pale round face, like the moon, with bulbous blue eyes and sparse, improbably yellow curls covered the back of his head. He was dressed in a bright orange quilted satin smoking jacket, with a pale blue velvet cravat pinned with a huge diamond at his throat, and tight, black satin trousers.
‘Good morning, gentlemen’ said the strange vampire in a thin, reedy voice ‘Lord Kingsteignton at your service’.

He held out his hand politely to Vlad, but Vlad just continued staring at him as though he had been turned to stone.

Vampire Trance Games

Roland retreated back towards the fireplace and watched the scene in front of him unfold.

Costello was still waving his chicken leg in the air cheerily, but Vlad's face had crumpled like a kicked little puppy and Kingsteignton had assumed a faintly supercilious smirk. Interestingly the usually loquacious Count was still silent and had got rather a blank look on his face.

'Maybe the Count is just a robot or zombie controlled by Kingsteignton after all' thought Roland to himself with a little inward laugh.

'M...Mm...Mike!' wailed Vladimirescu 'I was so worried about you! How can you be looking so cheerful! How can you eat!'

Mike Costello carried on chewing and swigged some more coke.

'It's cool Vlad, just pull up a chair and grab some fries' replied Mike happily.

Roland's eyes narrowed. Either he was getting paranoid or he was seeing the same blank look in Costello's eyes as he was seeing in the Count's.

Vlad was now just standing and staring at Mike in disbelief; it was as if the whole little tableau had just been instantly frozen in time.

Roland strolled over to the table and snapped his fingers under Costello's nose. Mike did not so much as blink. Vlad jumped at the noise but the Count still remained where he was staring at the table in a vacant, fixed manner.

'So what have you done to him Kingsteignton?' drawled Roland 'Very clever, big bad vampire hypnotises the human? Or have you drugged him?'

'What makes you think I have done anything to the human?' queried Kingsteignton softly 'I found him wandering around outside the house last night and gave him a bed for the night and his favourite breakfast'.

'Well, I knew that vampires were liars, but that one takes the biscuit' ground out Roland 'You know that I know that you took Costello from The Bricklayer's arms and so do the Laurel and Hardy of the vampire world over there?'

'Prove it!' retorted Kingsteignton childishly.

'Why' replied Roland, by now thoroughly confused and thinking he had fallen down the rabbit hole and into some Vampire Wonderland.

'Because I say so' shrieked Kingsteignton even more childishly.

'He's going off again' interjected Vlad 'He can't hold it together. He's going to start writhing and dribbling again in a minute!'

'Look Kingsteignton, I know you took Costello from the pub; I could smell him there and you left this behind'.

Roland took the elegant calling card out of his jean's pocket and held it out in Kingsteignton's direction.

Kingsteignton's eyes had lost all awareness and he gazed at the card dully.

'Prove it' he repeated again in a monotone voice.

Roland raised his eyes to the heavens and groaned. Inwardly he felt like howling. What had he ever done to deserve getting mixed up with the affairs of a bunch of vampires! Feeling the need to blame anyone rather than himself, he cursed Eunice Batchworth under his breath.

Checking Vlad's eyes carefully, and seeing a spark of what passed for normality in a vampire, he backed away from the table.

'It seems Vladimirescu that we are stuck in a vampire's house with one human and two vampires who are in some kind of trance. What do you suggest we do now? It wasn't very pleasant to watch the last time Kingsteignton fell apart, and it didn't smell to good either!'

Vlad gulped in dismay; he wished that someone had told him earlier that this leadership stuff wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

Vampire Etiquette

'Kingsteignton' started Roland cordially 'What a nice surprise?'

'Hardly, De Cazalrenoux, when you are wandering up and down the street outside my house with your two companions' returned Kingsteignton smoothly 'I was actually expecting you a lot sooner? What happened, did you have trouble getting Vladimirescu to agree to come?'

'On the contrary, Vladimirescu was the one urging us on, but a good night's rest and daylight both seemed to be a good idea'.

'And I suppose that there was the little matter of you being in wolf-form to be considered, hmm!'

By now it had occurred to the two vampires that Roland was no longer partaking in their conversation and was in fact talking to someone a few feet away from them on the pavement.

'Roland, Roland what are you doing?' shrieked Vlad 'We have important plans to make, you don't have time to give out directions! Just give the guy 50p or something and stop wasting valuable time!!'

A second later Vlad's bottom jaw was on the ground as 'the guy' turned around and he clocked that it was Kingsteignton.

'Good morning Vladimirescu, Good morning Count Antonescu, I was just issuing an invitation for morning coffee at my house. I believe that you were interested in seeing inside?'

Vlad looked helplessly to Roland for directions as to what he should say or do next. Roland pointed meaningfully at Kingsteignton's front door and mouthed 'say yes'.

Vlad, however, was not convinced.

'Umm, I'm not sure that would be appropriate Lord Kingsteignton, we are just out doing a bit of shopping you see and are in a bit of a rush!'

Kingsteignton merely raised his eyebrows a fraction.

'But it would be a lot easier to walk through the front door, Valdimirescu, than try and break in at the back? You will find that all the back windows are barred and alarmed. You won't be able to get in without being detected.'

'But why would we try to get in the back' squeaked Vlad, who was by now thoroughly unnerved.

'Come, come Vladimirescu, you know that I have something that you are seeking' said Kingsteignton in a soft voice as though he was soothing a child 'And you will be perfectly safe, what could I do to three fully-grown and strong Old Kingdomers in broad daylight?'

'Look Kingsteignton, the last time I saw you, you were a raving wreck in my hall, so I really don't know what you are capable of!' retorted Vlad.

'My boy, you really need to trust a fellow vampire to always have your best interests at heart! And please take heed of De Cazalrenoux's frantic gesturing behind me and join me for coffee. It will only take a few minutes of your time'.

'Oh very well then' mumbled Vlad ungraciously 'But you had better have Mike and he had better be unharmed!'

That's the spirit, Vladimirescu!' beamed Kingsteignton as he slipped his hand under Vlad's elbow and started leading him to his front door.

Roland waited until the Count has started to follow the other two vampires inside, before he moved to catch up the rear.

He still really didn't trust Antonescu and found it strange that the normally outspoken vampire had not said a word since Kingsteignton's sudden appearance on the pavement.

Roland had a brief sensation of cherry-striped walls, expensive walnut furniture and gleaming silver as he entered the house, before they were led into a large, elegant morning room shaded from the sun by special blinds to protect the vampires.

And sitting at a small table in front of a crackling fire they found Mike Costello halfway through a KFC Bargain Bucket, which he was washing down with liberal swigs from a litre bottle of Coke.

'Hi guys' he cheeerily greeted them, waving a half-gnawed drumstick in the air 'How's it going?'

Kettle Genies

Eunice arranged herself primly on the decaying sofa in Vlad's drawing room, and watched dispassionately as Roland threw himself into the armchair opposite, wincing slightly as he knocked his injured arm.

She looked at his handsome face, complete with romantically stormy expression, and wondered why he did not move her at all? After all, he was tall, good looking, rich and an alpha? Eunice knew that she would have trouble explaining herself to the Council of Witches and her family, when it came out that she was expecting a child by a werewolf and wished to marry him. But in the snooty, hierarchichal world of the Old Kingdomers, they would almost be as shocked that she had fallen for a mere Beta!

Eunice allowed herself a little smile at the memory of looking down at her mere Beta as he slept this morning. His curly dark hair had been tousled, his long limbs flung over the side of the bed and he had been snoring like a trooper! Still she would have him no other way, and would entertain no notion of another whatever the Witches Council, her family and Roland de Cazalrenoux had to say in the matter!

Roland viewed Eunice's little smile warily. As far as he was concerned, Eunice was the most thoroughly unpredictable female he had ever encountered, and although she totally exasperated him, he could not help becoming more and more attracted to her. She was like a breath of fresh air after all the beautiful, well-groomed women who pursued him. He was a vain werewolf who knew his own worth, but even Roland had enough insight to realise that most of them were after his money and the status he could give them.

What would most of them do if they knew he was a werewolf, a creature of the night?

'So Roland, are you ready to begin' asked Eunice tartly, breaking into his musings.

'Any time you like, Ms Batchworth' he replied urbanely.

'Well as you know, Sue Fisher has been casting spells on your behalf. However, these have not proceeded as smoothly as we would have liked. There seemed to have been a lot of background interference and it was very difficult to get them on the right vibration. It would seem that someone or something, doesn't want you to have any of this information, Roland?'

Roland looked annoyed.

'But wouldn't that someone have to be immensly powerful to block Sue Fisher's spells? I thought that she was the best in the business?' he asked.

'Oh she is' reassured Eunice 'We can only think of four someones or somethings that could possibly be doing it. The big question then is why would they be interested in your missing Clan member or what have you done to upset one of them?'

'I haven't upset anyone' said Roland a trifle haughtily 'I go out of my way to maintain good relations with all Old Kingdomers and even humans!'

'Hmm, like the way you have been getting on with the Count and Lord Kingsteignton?' asked Eunice shrewdly.

'They are vampires who have had the temerity to involve themselves in my business!' bit back Roland savagely 'Anyway, I do not believe that there is a vampire alive, if you can call it that, today who is powerful enough to intefere with Sue Fisher. If you tell me that Vladimerescu is on the list, I will have to laugh!

'Well' started Eunice diplomatically 'Three of them are definitely not vampires. There is old Tog ol Mallich, the renegade witch who lives on the mountain in Wales. We believe that she still has the power, but she is supposed to be totally crazy, is a recluse and why would she be interested in werewolf doings? There is Old Father Tom the Head of the Centaurs in Georgia, but he's a benign old fellow, and only interested in the welfare of his centaurs. None of the packs have taken to hunting centaurs have they?'

'Don't be ridiculous' snapped back Roland 'We have only the utmost respect for our centaur brothers, besides which we wouldn't stand a chance of catching them, even with a full pack!'

Roland grinned, and Eunice could see why this charming, self-deprecating side of Roland could be lethally attractive to women.

She smiled back at him, which broke some of the tension in the room, and continued.

'That only leaves Einneoach Lal Korami the Trollmaster in the Himalayas, but the one we are truly afraid of could sort of be classed as a vampire.'

Roland raised his eyebrows.

'Whatever do you mean' he asked.

'Well, really it's a thought that should not be thought. But we are worried that it is the one who has not stirred for 10,000 years and who shall not be called by name.

An icy chill ran up Roland's spine.

'But that's impossible! They are only stories told to frighten Old Kingdom children on long winter nights! Surely the great Father of Vampires cannot rise again, surely it's not true!'

Eunice sighed. 'Often the job of the witches is to think the unthinkable on behalf of the rest of the Old Kingdom. Don't forget that the Old Kingdom has been flourishing for many millenia longer than human civilisation. 10,000 years really isn't that long? There are many Old Kingdomers still alive who have heard tales of that time from relatives who were alive then.'

'But, why would the nameless Vampire Overlord, be interested in my internal Clan concerns? What is so special about our missing Kea? asked Roland with a frown creasing his forehead.

'This is what we have to find out' said Eunice briskly. 'Sue Fisher is working on some more powerful spells, but we did have the good luck to have a kettle genie pop up on your behalf!'

'A kettle genie?' echoed Roland increduously 'What on earth is a kettle genie?'

'Oh, they are genies who are attracted to living in and around witch's cauldrons. They like the warmth of the steam and the vibrations of the spells. Most cauldrons have one or two, but we are lucky enough to four resident genies!'

Roland was starting to think that the worst thing that he had ever done in his long life was take that call from Kingsteignton. It had only been yesterday morning, but it seemed that he had stepped into a surreal nightmare that never seemed to end.

'Er, why was it luck that the kettle genie popped up' enquired Roland, not really sure if he actually wanted to know.

'Because he had some important information for you' replied Eunice as though she was talking to a small child 'They don't just pop for everyone you know! The genie said to tell you that some of the answers you seek lie on your sofa at home, look for the lavender.'

'Sounds like utter nonsense to me, but I suppose I had better go and check it out' said Roland beginning to unfold himself from the armchair.

'Where do you think you are going?' asked Eunice crisply.

'To check my sofa? God knows what for, as it definitely isn't lavender! At least I can shower and get some decent clothes'.

'No you can't' said Eunice 'The genie also said that you must first help the vampire find the human, Mike Costello. If you don't all will go awry!'

'What a load of rubbish' ground out Roland 'Of what possible use could that human be to anyone. All he has caused so far is trouble! The best thing that could happen is that Kingsteignton bleeds him dry!!!!'

A little gasp behind him made him whirl round to see a pale-faced Vlad standing in the doorway holding a tatty green sweatshirt in his hands.

'No' moaned Vlad 'You do not mean it. Mike is my friend. What has he ever done to you?'

Eunice went over to Vlad and put her arm around his shaking shoulders.

'Of course he doesn't mean it. If he knows what is good for him, he will go out with you this morning and help you to find Mike. Did you bring that sweatshirt for him? That was very kind of you, though he doesn't deserve it!'

Eunice took the sweatshirt from Vlad's limp grasp and flung it at Roland.

'Change your clothes and go with the vampires, de Cazalrenoux. You have hurt Vlad's feelings for no good reason. I think that it is time that you all realised that we are caught up in something a lot bigger than your petty concerns!

Would You Like Ice On That?

'Hold still, Roland, or I will never get this bandage on!' chided Eunice frostily as she attempted to roll a bandage over Roland's badly bitten arm 'You could really do with some stitches you know, why don't you let us take you to A&E'.

Vlad, who was trying to restrain Antonescu in the corner, just gulped as he saw Roland's flat, angry eyes as he tried to jerk his arm away from Eunice's dainty, but firm, grip. This morning was definitely not going as planned! And they needed to rescue poor, old Mike!

'If it wasn't for you, Miss Batchworth, the Count wouldn't have about two inches of my flesh dangling from his fangs!' exploded Roland.

'Yes, I can see what you mean' replied Eunice turning to survey the Count's bloodied face 'Can't be very nice for you to have to look at. Mr Vladimirescu, could you please get the Count to wipe his face clean?'

Vlad who was losing his battle to contain Antonescu was not impressed by this suggestion.

'But...but... How on earth am I meant to do that' he spluttered at Eunice's back, as she had already returned to her task of binding Roland's arm.

'It was supposed to be your throat, witch' growled the Count menacingly.

'Oh I have just about had enough of you three' ground out Eunice sharply whirling back round, and managing to painfully knock Roland's still gaping wound in the process whilst still retaining her grip.

'Let's get a few things straight! I have information that I need to impart to Mr de Cazalrenoux, I will not tell anyone else. If he wishes to share that information with you two, that is his concern! Also, I do not need any protection from a vampire, however big and scary that vampire thinks he is! The only reason that you got bitten, Roland, is that you got in the way of my freezing spell. I was in no danger from the Count!'

Roland flushed once more.

'It is in my nature and breeding to protect the fairer sex, Miss Batchworth, and you could have been killed!' retorted Roland.

'Nonsense! You were just on some macho trip to make yourself look and feel good! That's why I didn't unfreeze you both for a couple of minutes, to give you both time to cool down! You should both be thoroughly ashamed of yourselves. As for you, Mr Vladimirescu, if you really want to be the vampire leader, you really need to start growing a back bone!'

The three male Old Kingdomers subsided, quashed by this outburst. Roland grimly remembering those minutes, that seemed to stretch for eternity, where he had been frozen in mid-air with Antonescu's fangs dug into his arm. He was almost certain that Eunice has timed the spell to the second so that Antonescu would bite him, and she had just confirmed that she deliberately dragged the spell on longer than she needed to!

Tying the last knot on the bandage firmly, she picked up the bowl of bloodied ice that she had used (with unnecessary vigour and enthusiasm in Roland's opinion) to stop the bleeding and tipped it down the sink.

'And I don't want to catch either of you sucking the ice cubes or licking the sink' she stated firmly, looking both vampires squarely in the eye 'From now on, we will have a bit of decorum! Roland, if you want that information, please follow me now into the drawing room.'

With that she swept out of the room, still looking band-box neat without a hair out of place.

Roland, patted the bandage on his arm gingerly and grimaced. He was not worried about infection from the vampire's fangs, his werewolf heritage shielded him from that and promoted fast healing, but the wound was throbbing painfully and you couldn't have said that Eunice's ministrations had been tender! He eased himself up from the kitchen table and ambled out of the door, shooting the Count a malevolent look as he went, painfully aware that the usually suave and elegant Roland de Cazalrenoux was clad in a pair of humans black jeans that were too big in the waist and too short in the leg, an old white UCL sweatshirt that was now ripped down one arm and splattered with blood, and that he still had tufts of tawny wolf fur sprouting from his ears!

'The witch will pay!' grumbled the Count low in his throat, after Roland had left the room.

'No Antonescu, YOU will leave it!' cried Vlad decisively pushing the Count hard back into the corner 'I, too have had more than enough! You still have questions to answer yourself! Why did you try to get information out of Miss Batchworth so aggressively, AND you still have not cleared your name with regards me being warned not to trust you!

The Count looked abashed; Vladimirescu squaring up to him was like a sparrow scaling the Rock of Gibraltar, but he had a new note of command in his voice, and Antonescu had been trained to obey.

Just a Little Misunderstanding Between Friends!

By the time that Roland and Vlad had burst into the kitchen, having first been delayed by a brief scuffle as to who was going to get through the door first which Roland's superior height helped him win, the Count was leaning back against the sink with a supercilious sneer on his face and Eunice was rubbing her sore wrist with a decidedly stormy look on her face.

Roland flung himself over to Eunice, grabbed her to him and asked in a hoarse voice

'Are you OK, what has that brute done to you? Where has he hurt you?'

Eunice, who didn't appreciate being mauled by Roland any more than she did being man-handled by the Count, dug the stiletto heel of her dainty black pump into his sock-clad right foot, and dug her elbow sharply into his middle.

'Ow, that hurt' squealed Roland, jumping back with an indignant look on his face. 'What the hell have I done, I'm only trying to help you'.

The Count just rolled his eyes and said dryly 'I don't think that the young lady is in a very appreciative mood this morning, De Cazalrenoux, and she is definitely not in a co-operative one!'

Roland looked for a moment as though he was going to go at the Count and throttle him, but then thought better of it and pulled himself back with a visible effort. His ears had sprouted tufts of tawny fur, his canines had dropped down in his jaw and his eyes had widened and narrowed into glassily cold green stare.

'What were you doing to Eunice?' he snarled 'You must have really hurt her for her to have cried out like that.'

'I did nothing, De Cazalrenoux' replied the Count contemptuously 'I was merely trying to elicit some information from her; these young people nowadays have no mettle and no staying power'.

Roland growled low in his throat and Vlad grabbed his arm to restrain him.

'Why are you pumping her for information, Antonescu?' spat Roland 'What can she possibly know that would be of interest to you vampires!'

'Well, she obviously came her to impart some information to you, so I just thought that I would speed up the process' said the Count reasonably.

'Anything that she has to say was for my ears only, Antonescu' was Roland's hot reply 'Why on earth do you think that she would tell you confidential client information?'

'Unfortunately for her, that was her response as well. So I had to grease the wheels a little to get her to talk. Regrettable but necessary!' replied the Count silkily.

Vlad, who by now was holding onto Roland's arm with both hands to restrain him, glared angrily at the Count.

'How dare you take advantage of a guest in this house! And how dare you assault a lady under my roof!' spluttered Vlad.

'You don't honestly believe that the werewolf would share any of that information with us do you?' asked Antonescu tauntingly 'And that's no lady, she's a witch and you know what they are like!'

'No I don't know what 'they' are like' answered Vlad repressively 'And I will reiterate that I do not like guests in this house being harassed and assaulted in any way!'

Eunice looked up from rubbing her wrist and said in a matter of fact tone 'His sire ran away with a renegade witch, that's why he doesn't like us. They tried to hush it all up, but his family have never gotten over it. The Count now thinks that all witches are cheap tarts on the make.'

Vlad's jaw dropped and the Count looked furious.

'But I never knew this? Why wasn't I told? I thought that old Igor was staked in the Resistance? His name is on the 'Wall of Distinction'. Is he still alive? Where did he run away to?' wailed Vlad.

'Oh yes he is still very much alive. He ran away to the Bahamas. He's a property developer now, I believe'.

'Shut your mouth witch!' growled the Count 'You don't know what you are talking about!'

'Oh I thought you wanted to get information out of me, Count?' sniped back Euncie sweetly 'Do you want me to tell them how he stripped the rings off the fingers of your aunts in their coffins before he left as well?'

Antonescu had stiffened against the sink and a dangerous rictus had overtaken his face.

'Or how he sold your younger sister onto the slave markets in Tangiers to get enough money for the plane fares?' she continued 'Or that the name of this dangerous siren is Doris, and that she is 40 pounds overweight and used to run a whelk stall in Southend?'

The Count snarled and leapt at Eunice, going for her throat this time....

Roland the Red

Eunice laughed so loud that she doubled over and clutched her middle, but still she couldn't stop.

Roland, who was thoroughly unaccustomed to women bursting out laughing at the sight of his nearly naked body, flushed a dark brick red. This annoyed him further as he knew that a red face did not suit his tawny, red hair, and that usually he could control his blushing. But something about Eunice brought his defences down and made him feel like a naughty little cub of ten again.

Eunice finally ran out of steam and managed to pull herself up straight again, still puffing from her exertions.

'Oh I wish I had a camera' she started, blithely unaware of the stony reception she was receiving from the three male old kingdomers 'You three look so funny just standing here in the kitchen with a bag of blood!'

She almost started to laugh again, but managed to collect herself when she looked into Roland's face and saw that he was not at all amused. She didn't know him well enough to know that, while he was usually an affable and fairly laid back character for a werewolf, his Achilles heel was his vanity and his feeling of invincibility where the opposite sex was concerned. He was not one to laugh at himself and his wounded pride.

The Count glowering and Vlad looking fussily appalled did not concern her; they were vampires and vampires always were a bit weird as far as she was concerned.

'For god's sake, Vladimirescu, do you not have some clothes that I could borrow from you, or are you happy for me to go on standing here feeling humiliated!' barked Roland suddenly.

Vlad, who was never too good in the morning until after he had had his first warm bag of blood, jumped. His nerves were already on edge this morning, what with Antonescu dragging him out of his coffin at an unreasonably early hour of the morning after a poor night spent worrying about poor Mike Costello, Roland strolling casually into the kitchen barely clothed demanding coffee and then this beautiful woman turning up out of nowhere. Were they really safe in this house if all and sundry seemed to be able to turn up out of the blue, knowing exactly who was in the house?

'Yes of course, Roland, just follow me. Do you think that we are actually enjoying the vision of your half-naked body draped over the kitchen dresser?' he asked pointedly as he took Roland out of the kitchen door into the hall.

As the sound of their footsteps faded as they climbed the stairs, the Count turned to Eunice, who was by now regaining some of her composure, took her hand, bowed deeply over it and said suavely 'Enchanted to meet you; it is always such a pleasure to meet such a charming young lady. My name is Count Antonescu, lately arrived from Romania'

The smile that accompanied this gesture was no more pleasant thought Eunice than the glower that he had initially greeted her with.

She snatched back her hand a bit to hastily and drew herself up to her full height.

'Thank you kindly, Sir' she replied 'I am Miss Batchworth - Eunice Batchworth - and I am chief witch's assistant to Sue Fisher'.

'Sue Fisher' said the Count knowledgeably 'you fly high in witch's circles for one so young, my child'.

'Sue Fisher is my aunt, sir. Witching is in my blood, I come from a long line of high fliers'.

'Hmm, I believe that your aunt is assisting the werewolf in the matter of his missing clan member, how is this coming along? Do you have any information for us?

Eunice was appalled at the Counts blunt enquiry. 'As you should know, Sir, I am not at liberty to discuss our clients with you. Any information that I have is for Mr De Cazalrenoux's ears alone; if he wishes to discuss it with you that is his decision and his concern'.

The Count smiled at her answer, but did not seem pleased with it. He looked intently into Eunice's eyes and said 'But I am not interested in De Cazalrenoux's concerns, I need you tell me exactly what it is that Sue Fisher has entrusted to you and I need you to tell me now!'

Eunice, who was not in the least intimidated by this display, broke the Counts stare.

'Count Antonescu, I don't appreciate you asking me for information, when I have already informed you that it is confidential and for the ears of our client only! It is not the act of a gentleman. And please don't try and entrance me with your stare again! I am not a human and could stare down a vampire from the age of five!'

'You make a great mistake, young lady, crossing me. There are things afoot that you could not possibly know the significance of, things that are bigger than your stupid confidentiality clauses! You will tell me now what you know, or you will regret it!'

With this speech the Count leaned over, grabbed one of Eunice's wrists and started twisting it.

'Let me go' she screamed at him and kicked him heftily on the leg 'I will tell you nothing. I do not know you. I do not trust you. And our client's confidentiality will not be broken'.

The Count just smiled some more. Eunice was a tall girl, but she was willowy and slight. The Count was a very tall, very stocky, preternaturally strong vampire from an old blood line, and her kicking him had little or no effect.

'You will tell me' he said sweetly 'And you you will tell me now, before the werewolf and my so called leader return'.

'No!' said Eunice promptly, sinking her teeth into his arm in an attempt to make him let her go.

'I like your spirit, but unless you really want me to hurt you, you will tell me what I wish to know!'

At this the Count increased the pressure on Eunice's slender wrist, causing her to scream out loud. The Count grabbed her to him and roughly put his hand over her mouth to stop her cries.

It was too late however, as the sound of pounding footsteps were heard on the stairs, and both Roland and Vlad burst into the kitchen.

The Three Stooges

'Well, we look inconspicuous don't we!' thought Roland wryly, as they strolled up Clarence Crescent trying to look nonchalant in the bright morning sunshine.

Roland had woken up on Vladimirescu's hearth rug in the cold morning light. Back in his human form, he had been stiff, cold and naked. His clothes were in a heap on the sofa where Antonescu had dumped them, but they were too ripped up by his turning to be able to put them on. He rooted through the pockets and retrieved his wallet, keys and phone and looked for something to cover himself. The only thing to hand was a very grubby tablecloth that had been covering a scratched, walnut side table. He draped it round his thighs and wandered into the kitchen.

'Any chance of a coffee' he asked the two vampires who had already arisen from their coffins and were bickering as usual over a glutinous bag of pig's blood.

Vlad jumped in surprise and the Count glared at him.

'With milk and two sugars, if you have them' continued Roland affably.

'Do you not dress in the morning's anymore, De Cazalrenoux?' asked the Count stuffily.

'Not when my clothes are in shreds from last night, I don't! Do you have anything I can borrow?' asked Roland cheerily.

Vlad looked at him with a worried frown.

'You seem mighty cheerful this morning for someone who woke up naked on the rug?' he asked warily 'Has something happened?'

'Nothing' replied Roland 'We werewolves always feel great after turning; it makes us feel good to be alive!'

'I suppose you want us to provide you with a woman as well as the coffee' interjected the Count tartly.

'You do know our species well, don't you Count! I'm not holding out for the milk and sugar, so fully realise that a woman is not likely to materialise!'

'Hm' snorted Antonescu and was about to say more, when the door bell suddenly jangled loudly through the house.

Vlad scooted fussily off to open it, totally unaware that he still had the bag of pig's blood in his hand. After a few brief moments, after they heard the opening of the creaking old front door and the low murmuring of voices, Vlad returned to the kitchen trailed by the almost impossibly glamorous figure of Eunice Batchworth.

'Er, you have a visitor Roland' stuttered Vlad nervously 'How on earth did she know you were here?'

'I wouldn't know' said Roland grinning from ear to ear 'It was you guys who mentioned providing the woman!'

'Sue Fisher sent me' said Eunice simply then looked around at Roland's half naked, grinning figure, Vlad still nervously clutching his bag of pig's blood, the Count standing glowering in a sinister manner and fell into the biggest fit of giggles ever.

Battle Plans

Roland, Vlad and the Count reached Vlad's house without any major incidents. Roland had been scented by a police dog as he loped over Sloane Square, but managed to overpower the dog's mind before he could cause too much of a commotion.

He had been the first to arrive at the house, even though the vampires were flying and should have been there well before him, so he reconnoitered the area to see if anything interesting had been going on while they had been away. There were no new signs of Kingsteignton or Mike Costello, and in fact no signs that anyone at all had been near the place.

'Popular guys' thought Roland sourly 'not even the London vampires want to come around and hang out'.

He was sitting patiently on his haunches when they arrived, bumping into each other and squabbling as usual.

'Pack it in and get us in the door' he growled into Vlad's mind.

Vlad fumbled over the keys in the locks, with the Count tutting in the background, and then stumbled into the hallway, flicking on the specially muted lights as he went. Roland followed the two vampires in, screwing up his nose as he went. The stench of the place had been bad enough in human form, but was much worse now he had his wolf nose!!!

'Have you ever thought of getting a cleaner, Vladimirescu' he projected into the vampire's minds.

Vlad flushed and the Count looked annoyed.

'Look here, de Cazalrenoux' squeaked Vlad 'I live here on my own and do the best I can with this crumbling heap! Do you think that I would spend funds on cleaners, when my brothers and sisters in Romania are starving to death! We will talk in the drawing room - I hope that it will meet with your olfactory approval!'

He stalked off into the dining room, followed by the wolf Roland and the Count, who was glaring at Roland.

Vlad began after they had all made themselves comfortable.

'We need to make a plan to rescue Mike; Kingsteignton has already had him for several hours. I'm worried what might happen to him.'

'Why?' asked Roland in their heads. 'Why are you concerned about rescuing a human; haven't we got more important things to worry about?'

'Because he's my friend' retorted Vlad hotly, genuinely shocked at what Roland had said.

'He's a human. Since when have vampires had humans as friends? Aren't they usually just lunch?' enquired Roland 'Or are you some kind of new vampire?'

'I don't know why you are being do disagreeable, Roland! You know I don't feed the old way, and that I believe that the way forward for the Old Kingdom is to integrate more with humans'.

Roland just looked at him, as disbelievingly as a wolf could manage.

'I think de Cazalrenoux only looks at things from the point of view of what is going to benefit him' interjected the Count dryly 'Costello may be your best bet on getting you missing Clan member back, de Cazalrenoux. He may have information that he hasn't passed on, or he might have picked up something new from being around Kingsteignton. Don't forget he is a true psychic. Probably worth the minor inconvenience of helping us to get him back'.

Roland growled low in his throat.

'Fair point, Antonescu; but I'm just not keen on the idea of Old Kingdomers risking their necks for humans, we have enough on our plates as it is!'

'Look we have to start somewhere, and rescuing Mike seems like a good place to start' said Vlad firmly. 'There is no point going to his place while it is still dark, as Kingsteignton and whatever accomplices helped rescue him are still likely to be up and about. I propose that we go round there first thing tomorrow and see if we can pick up any clues. Anyway, we will need to wait until Roland has turned back. A wolf might just look a little conspicuous in Belgravia in broad daylight. How many more nights will you be turning, Roland?'

'The moon will be full enough on three more nights. I suppose we do have to start somewhere' replied Roland.

'Unless you can think of a better idea?' asked the Count sarcastically.

'Not really' said Roland 'I'm a bit stumped until Sue Fisher comes up with something'.

'Well we might as well rest until morning then. At least Kingsteignton left his car here, so we can use that. Are you OK down there down on the rug, Roland?' asked Vlad.

'Fine' replied Roland stretching out his limbs 'Do you happen to have a nice, meaty lamb bone lying around by any chance!'

Revelations in the Night

Eunice and Malvolio lay back in the bed, lazily replete and satisfied. The clouds had cleared and now the full moon shone brightly through the curtainless window.

'Makes it something special doesn't it, making love when I should be turning!' said Malvolio grinning and turning to kiss Eunice's soft white shoulder.

A cloud crossed Eunice's face. 'I think that we should stop doing this Malvolio, however good it feels. Roland will go nuts if he finds out that you are not turning as you should, and I could get thrown off the Witch's Council if they found out that I was helping you. Also, we are not sure if it's going to hurt you if you keep doing it!'

'You worry too much sweetheart' smiled Malvolio as he slipped his arm around her and pulled her to him 'No one is going to find out and I will be fine!'

But Eunice would not be placated.

'I really think that I should leave now, and that you should turn. Prosperpine is fine, I can feel her sleeping. It would be better for you!'

Malvolio just laughed. 'But I feel wonderful, my love. I have never felt better. Just relax and stay with me.'

'You know I told you that I met Roland today and then bumped into him as I was leaving earlier' started Eunice hesitantly 'Well, I'm not sure that I should mention this, but I think that he thought that I had come here to see him'.

'You think so' Malvolio asked shortly 'What makes you think that'.

Eunice could tell that Malvolio's body had stiffened under her.

'Well he was very flirty at Sue's and seemed disappointed that I had been visiting you guys. Why had you never told him about me, Malvolio?'

'Because there are some things that I like to keep private. This Clan business is all very well, but you don't get a life of your own. Everyone knows everything about you; what you do, what you say, who you know!'

'There is more to it than that though, isn't there?' prompted Eunice gently.

'Well I'm also not sure how cool Roland would be about you being a witch. I mean the usual Clan way is that you are put together with a selected Clan bitch at the turning time and nature takes over. By the time you are back in human form you are stuck with each other for life.'

'Another valid point, Malvolio, but it's still not the real reason is it?'

Eunice looked directly into Malvolio's face with cool, searching green eyes. He groaned and looked away.

'Oh you know! Roland is like this big stud. The big alpha male! I'm a mere beta and should know my place. If you must know, I'm scared stiff that he is going to sweep in here and take you from me. And you telling me that he is already sniffing around you just makes it worse. If he fancies you and finds out that we are an item, he'll lose it totally. He's not used to coming second!'

'Maybe you are underestimating him, and you are certainly underestimating me. I love you Malvolio, you know that. Do you think that means that I will let the big bad wolf carry me off to his lair and ravage me whenever the fancy takes him!'

Malvolio looked stricken. 'This is the first time I have crossed him, Eunice. And the only reason I can do it is because I love you so much. It would crucify me if he took you from me.'

She smiled gently down at him. 'He will never have me and I will never leave you. Especially not now.'

'Why not now especially' he asked cautiously.

'Because I am pregnant' she said simply 'We are going to have a child, Malvolio.'

By The Light of the Silvery Moon

Vlad tried to shrink behind the Count as he found himself caught in the cold green gaze of the wolf standing before him. The Count snorted derisively and pushed Vlad forward.

'What's the matter Vladimirescu? Have you never seen a wolf before?'

Vlad heard the words in his head, conveyed in a flat, cold tone.

'Did it talk? I heard no words!' Vlad tried to jump backwards again, but only managed to collide with the vast bulk of the Count, and was swiftly pushed forwards once more.

'I think that de Cazalrenoux might start getting offended if you keep on referring to him as an 'it'' observed Antonescu drily 'When he is in his wolf form, he communicates by telepathy'.

'You seem to know a lot about our race, Count' commented Roland in their heads.

Vlad couldn't help jumping and by now his eyes were wide as saucers and his dark curls were jiggling furiously.

'So can you read my mind now' he asked, rather loudly as he was so rattled.

'The top thoughts certainly' replied the cold voice in his head 'And I suppose that I could delve further if I chose, but most minds aren't worth the effort. They tend to be grubby and neglected, a bit like the kind of houses that Health Inspectors are called out to.'

'So how do you do it? Does Antonescu hear everything I hear, or can you have one to one conversations?' Vlad replied.

'You don't have to speak out loud for me to hear you; in fact it would be safer for everyone if you would stop shouting so much' said the voice that was Roland the Wolf 'We don't want half of London turning up to see what is going on'.

Vlad flushed. Between Antonescu and de Cazalrenoux, he felt like an ungainly adolescent. They always seemed to be wrong-footing him, and he felt that he was the butt of some private joke between them. But he, Demitrie Vladimirescu, was the Leader of the Romanian Vampires. He totally outranked Antonescu and was of equal, if not higher rank, than the Leader of a Werewolf Clan!

Roland must have caught the gist of these thoughts as he suddenly chuckled deep in his furry throat.

'Don't worry Vladimirescu, Antonescu can't hear what I'm saying now. You can rest assured that we do not have some private joke against you going on. I have picked up enough from your mind that you have been given cause to doubt the Count, and that you and he have quarrelled about this? asked the voice in his head drily.

Vlad opened his mouth to reply and then firmly shut it again.

'I don't know what to think any more, de Cazalrenoux' he thought in his head instead.

'Is anyone who they say they are? Can I trust anyone? My people, the Romanian Vampires are being annihilated, and I have no idea how to stop this happening! You are a Clan Leader, you must know how this feels, this need to protect your people, this feeling of helplessness?'

Vlad felt a warm rush of feeling envelop him like a soft, fluffy blanket. De Cazalrenoux was offering him his sympathy and understanding.

'But what are we to do?' he thought.

'The first thing we must do is get inside somewhere and out of sight, away from prying eyes. The last thing we need is the police chasing a large dog-like creature and two mysterious dark figures! I think the best thing is if we go back to your house Vladimirescu. We could never get into my apartment block without being spotted!'thought Roland into Vlad's head.

'Yes, I think that's a good idea; we are not doing any good just standing here. We need to work out a plan to rescue Mike and find Kingsteignton.'

Vlad turned to the Count, who was beginning to look a little sour at being left out of the conversation, and said decisively 'We are returning to my house to make plans; we will have to keep up with the wolf, so we will dematerialise and fly'.

Antonescu opened his mouth to protest, thought better of it, and drew himself up to his full height.

'I will take the wolf's clothes' he said regally, bending over and picking up Roland's destroyed raiment.

At that the two vampires evaporated into a trail of fine black smoke and Roland starting galloping hard in the direction of the river.

Meanwhile, the moon continued her stately climb through the night sky and sent silvery moonbeams to bounce off the sleeping world below. She pushed her silvery fingers though the pink Cinderella curtains and smiled at Proserpine laying sleeping like an angel tucked under her pink duvet, more silvery fingers peeped in the window at Malvolio and Eunice Batchworth joyfully drinking wine and making love as he somehow managed to push back the time of his turning, and they even penetrated the bars of the tiny window in the basement of Lord Kingsteignton's house, where Mike Costello lay trussed like a spring chicken, shaking with fear.

The only place where they could not reach was the cold depths of the caves in Romania, where something ancient and evil was stirring. Something that was causing the very earth itself to shake and split in two.

Too Close To Moonrise

Roland settled into a steady lope and covered the ground easily as he cut his way through the darkened suburban back gardens. He easily jumped any fences or walls that he encountered, and continued on his way without his heart beat rising one iota or breaking into a sweat. One of the advantages of being a werewolf was not having to go to the gym to keep fit!

He was not worried about the car; the police would never be able to identify him through it. It was his strict policy that none of the Clan vehicles could ever be traced back to them and they all had falsified registrations and insurance taken out under other names and linked to non-existent addresses. He would make no attempt to retrieve the vehicle; it just wasn't worth the trouble it could stir up.

He was also totally unconcerned as to the fate of the two vampires. Even if he cared what happened to them, he knew that they would have just drifted away from the scene of the crime in a puff of smoke, leaving behind two confused and frustrated police officers. He was also pretty sure that they were tracking him and would materialise as soon as it suited them.

The one thing that was slowing him down was the clothes he was wearing. The heavy black leather jacket, thick denim jeans and dark blue polo shirt were impeding his movements, stopping him from getting into his full stride. He considered stripping off, but did not want to be responsible for some old lady having a heart attack as he streaked past her lounge window!

He raised his head slightly to the sky and sniffed the wind. It was getting perilously near to the rising of the moon and soon her silver orb would be glimpsed scudding through the clouds and bathing everything in her ghostly glow. Roland had never risked turning out in the open in a densely populated area. He wasn't like some of the Old Kingdomers who revelled in shocking humans and creating urban myths about themselves. He believed that the safety of the Clan was better served by discretion; he did not like the current rash of films and TV series about werewolves and vampires. He would have preferred it if humans had never heard of them and didn't believe that they existed.

The turning was close. He could feel it rippling in his veins and muscles. His animal instincts were being heightened with every second that passed. Should he just preempt the inevitable and turn? He would be able to move much faster and would surely be able to find somewhere to hole up for the night? He could even be daring and go and hunt the deer in Richmond Park? He could cover so much more ground in his wolf self.

Twin thuds on the turf off to his left startled him and brought him to a halt. He turned to find the two vampires struggling to get up off the grass, and squabbling with each other as usual.

'Why did you have to fly into me like that! You could have hurt me!' he heard Vlad whine petulantly.

'You know that I have to fly three wing beats behind you at all times, My Leader. You should know better than to turn like that on descent!' retorted the Count.

Roland frowned. Petulant, arguing vampires was not what he needed right now.

'Look here' he started but the rest of his sentence came out as a loud, resonating howl. His thinking about turning when he was so close to it had set off the process and there was no going back now

'What's up with de Cazalrenoux' demanded Vlad, his eyes as wide as saucers. 'His body is writhing under his skin and he seems to be changing shape?'

'Have you never seen a werewolf turn before?' asked Count Antonescu sneeringly.

'No never' replied a horrified Vlad 'Is it going to be horrible? Will we be safe with a wolf?'

As he uttered these words, the silver disk of the moon rose above the horizon and Roland's body seemed to be thrown into a paroxysm of agony. His limbs writhed, flailed and began to change shape. His facial features contorted and ears pricked. And finally, under the shocked gaze of Vlad, Roland split out of his clothes and grew a thick, ruddy pelt. The wolf that was Roland sank down onto four huge paws and looked at the two vampires with cold green eyes. Seemingly not satisfied with what he saw, he threw back his head and gave throat to a deep, bass howl. Only of course there were no other Clan members who could answer him that night.

Flash Point

Roland was just trying to get his car back into the proper gear and move it forward away from the Porsche's crumpled bonnet, when he heard a tapping on the window. He cursed when he saw two shadowy figures peering in; the police had arrived just when he didn't need them to!

He cautiously rolled the window down and jerked back involuntarily when Vlad stuck his face through the window.

'What are you doing here, de Cazalrenoux' said Vlad indignantly 'And what have you done with Mike Costello!'.

Roland pushed the door open with a violent shove, leaped out of the car and grabbed the young vampire around the throat.

'I have just about had enough of this. Vladimirescu!' he ground out. 'Why didn't you tell me you were meeting the psychic tonight and why is it that Kingsteignton is back on the loose'.

Vlad felt his fangs clatter loosely over his bottom teeth as Roland rattled him around for several long minutes as effortlessly as if he had been waving an empty sack in the air.

'I suggest that you let my Leader go now' stated Count Antonescu darkly as he leaned over Roland and prised Vlad from his grip, dropping him back onto the pavement.

Vlad was sure that the Count could have stepped in earlier or stopped Roland from grabbing him in the first place, but he bit his tongue and pulled himself together.

'We have no requirement to discuss official Vampire business with you, De Cazalrenoux' began Vlad, very much on his dignity now. 'We do not know how you know about this meeting or that Lord Kingsteignton is currently unaccounted for; but we do not have to explain ourselves as it is not your concern'.

'Until my missing Clan member is returned to me everything you do, say or breathe is my concern you little bloodsucker! spat out Roland menacingly.

The Count put a very large hand on Roland's chest and pushed him gently backwards.

'Enough! Desist! We have bigger problems than your petty arguments. Name calling is not necessary Clan Leader; you are a bigger man than that!'

Roland drew himself up to his full height.

'Agreed' he said apologetically 'I have had a very trying day and am very frustrated that we seem to be getting nowhere with this matter. Also, I am very close to turning which shortens my temper somewhat. I am here because I got a message on my answer machine to come here, that also warned me to trust no-one. Did either of you leave it?

'No' said Vlad looking a little pale at the idea that this imposing creature might turn before his very eyes 'I had no intentions of anyone but myself coming to meet Mike. But how did you know about Kingsteignton?'

Roland felt about in his pocket and handed over the business card.

Vlad went even paler as he stared down at it. After long moments he looked up into Roland's face.

'Do you think Kingsteignton has got Mike?' he asked piteously 'You do know that Kingsteignton is rumoured to feed the old way?'

Roland softened further at Vlad's obviously genuine distress.

'When I checked out the pub,I definitely caught a whiff of Costello downstairs and then found the card on the table. I would say that they have both been here, but maybe at different times?' suggested Roland gently.

'No, he has Mike. I feel it in my bones. We must move heaven and earth to get him back, he has been a good friend to me!'

At that moment, they were suddenly illuminated in headlights as a police car came screaming around a corner and came to an untidy stop. Two officers got out and walked towards the little group. Roland had the sickening realisation that they had been tipped off about his shunt into the Porsche and also that he would not have time to deal with the police and get safely home before he turned. Also, they would probably breathalise him and take blood.

Knowing that to be caught and tested would open a massive can of worms for him and the Clan, he took a massive leap from standing and jumped onto the top of his car. He was outlined against the dark sky for a dramatic second before he took a second longer leap over the adjacent wall and disappeared from view.

The two police officers could not believe what they were seeing, but were even more mystified when they turned back to the two individuals that had been left standing and realised that they had gone. They had disappeared into thin air, without a sound and with no evidence as to which direction they had gone in.

Meanwhile, many, many miles away, in the underground cavern in Romania, the dark, manic laugh was heard once more, and the ancient sacrificial stone table of the Vampire Nations cracked in two.

How Many Vampires Does It Take To.......

Vlad and the Count came to to find themselves bound together, back to back and firmly gagged, in the soft twilight filtering through the door frame. They had been propped up on the cold, tiled floor of the front hall.

Trying to talk just produced unintelligible grunts and squirming around, trying to move just resulted in them falling over sideways and Vlad bashing his head against the solid oak legs of a side table. Howling with frustration, Count Antonescu eventually took the matter in hand by using his vast height and bulk to stand up and walk into the kitchen, with Vlad strapped, like an infant in a pouch, on his back. The Count pondered between using a knife to try and cut them free or having a go at lighting one of the gas burners and trying to burn through the ropes. Whoever bound them was unfortunately very good at knots and had used good quality, sturdy rope. Even Vlad's weight being supported on his back and his flailing legs did nothing to loosen their bonds.

Help came from an unexpected source. The wine bottle that Mike Costello had been drinking from had somehow been knocked over and smashed on the kitchen table, leaving a sticky trail of red wine dripping down the table leg to form a glutinous pool on the floor. The Count gritted his teeth, leaned over the table and started sawing at one of the bonds against the jagged broken glass. It was a slow and painful process as he had no hand free to steady the glass, so kept cutting himself, and Vlad, who didn't seem to be enjoying being bound to his back and being leaned over sideways, kept kicking him.

Eventually the frayed threads of one of the ropes parted and Antonescu grimly carried on until enough ropes were severed and he could free his hands to deal with the rest. As the final rope parted he pulled the gag out of his mouth and let Vlad fall unceremoniously into the pool of wine on the kitchen floor.

'What did you do that for' choked Vlad as he pulled out his own gag and tried to stand up 'I'm covered in red wine now and will have to change!'

'Serves you right for kicking me so hard' returned Count Antonescu shortly.

'Look here Antonescu, I'm your Leader now, so you can't talk to me like that!' blustered Vlad.

'Then start acting like one and stop whining!' rumbled the Count 'And while you are at it, can you explain this?'

The Count pushed a crumpled piece of paper across the table to Vlad, who blushed as much as a vampire could when he realised it was Mike Costello's note.

'As my leader, you question my loyalty' asked Antonescu threateningly as he leaned over Vlad.

'No, no, you know I would never do that!' pleaded Vlad.

'But you were planning to meet with this human psychic, and listen to him talk of me being untrustworthy. Me an Antonescu; my family has served yours faithfully for seventeen generations!'

Vlad felt that things were getting out of hand.

'Look Count, I think we are getting side tracked here. Don't you think it is rather more important to work out how we ended up bound and unconscious on the hall floor and how Kingsteignton got away?'

'My loyalty has been questioned; nothing is more important!' growled back Antonescu stubbornly 'You were planning to meet with this human psychic, no? One who slurs the honour of an Antonescu?.'

'Look Count, please don't go all medieval on me! My head hurts, I can't think straight and I don't know how any of this happened to us! begged Vlad pleadingly.

The Count's eyes narrowed but his next comment was more conciliatory.

'We will have to work it out and try and get Kingsteignton back' he declared.

'Do we really want him back' asked Vlad a little nervously.

The Count glared at him again through narrowed eyes. 'He now has even more questions to answer, my Leader, was his behaviour just a ruse to lull us into a false sense of security or did he have help? What can you remember?'

Vlad felt that the Count's mocking tone was a little unnecessary, but decided that nothing was to be gained from winding him up even further.

'I remember nothing until I woke on the hall floor bound to you' he replied evenly ' Before that the last thing I can recall is that I was reading the note and saying goodbye to de Cazalrenoux. You don't think he did this, do you?

The Count snort derisively. 'A werewolf overcome two vampires, I don't think so! And why would he? The only thing he is interested in is his missing Clan member.'

'And women' retorted Vlad bitterly 'But I wasn't knocked on the head, so how were we overcome?'

Antonescu frowned. 'I do not know the answer to that either. You seem to value the information you get from this human psychic, so why don't we go and make this rendezvous with Mike Costello anyway? Maybe he can sense something for us? See what his real game is?'

'Well we'll be late and Mike wanted to see me alone' started Vlad fussily until he realised that Antonescu was now glaring at him in a particularly hostile way.

'Oh, all right then' he conceded 'I'll just change my trousers and let's hope the car starts; I haven't used it in six months'.

As they were leaving through the front door five minutes later, both the Vampires failed to notice the now empty gas canister that had rolled under the chaise longue where Kingsteignton had been laying.

Wasted Journeys

Roland was glad that he had decided to drive as he drove up to the next Bricklayer’s Arms in Putney. He had had no success in Fitzrovia, Poplar and the City and was beginning to believe that he had been set up. But why? Who would lead him on a wild goose chase all over town like this, and for what reason? He pushed the idea that someone wanted him out of his flat so that they could get at his Clan firmly to the back of his mind. He had called Malvolio and he and Proserpine were fine; having the usual arguments about getting homework done but fine. The block was an especially secure one and Malvolio would defend Proserpine with his life if he was required to.

Roland parked up and wandered through the entrance of the pub into its courtyard garden. Immediately Roland caught a familiar scent and stood smelling the air for a few seconds. His quest might well be over; the human Mike Costello had definitely been here. He could also scent the rank, stale odour of a vampire, but it didn’t seem to be Vladimirescu? He looked around, and could see no sign of Costello or Vlad. There were a couple of groups of hardy humans sitting at the scattered tables in the chilly spring air, but no vampire and no psychic.

He moved into the building and wandered around, even going upstairs and into the gents. The interior of the pub was empty of any identifying scents, except for a brief whiff of Costello at the bar.

‘That young man really should bathe more frequently’ thought Roland testily as he loped back down the stairs. He ignored the inviting looks thrown at him by a group of young women giggling at the bar, who had been attracted to his height, gleaming dark red hair and obviously expensive attire, and strode back into the courtyard. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself by obviously sniffing around, but meandered round the tables until he caught a stronger scent from an abandoned table in the corner.

The table had been fully cleared, but Costello and a vampire had definitely been sitting here. Frustrated that he must have missed the meeting, Roland could have howled but, as he was turning on his heel to leave, he spotted a rectangular white card underneath one of the chairs. He picked it up and turned it over. He scanned the card and his brow furrowed and his canines came sliding down over his bottom lip as he read the words

‘Lord Kingsteignton, 26 Clarence Crescent, Belgravia, London, SW1’

The fools! How had they let Kingsteignton get away? He had been a soiled, drivelling idiot when Roland had left Vladimirescu’s house. On the horns of a dilemma, Roland hurried back to his car. Did he return to Vlad’s house to see if he could find out what had happened to them or go to Kingsteignton’s house in Belgravia? Did he have time to do any more before he turned? He swore as he turned the key in the ignition and was promptly punished for not paying enough attention to what he was doing by backing into the car behind him, which would just happen to be a Porsche, with a resounding thump.

The Astonishment of Mike Costello

Mike Costello slammed his pint glass down on the table and consulted his watch for about the fifteenth time. Vlad had always had a hazy notion of time, but this time he was really taking the biscuit. He was short of cash, as usual, and had been relying on Vlad to get the drinks in. He sighed heavily and fished around in his pocket to see if he had enough money for another pint. His search produced a 50p, a 20p and a button. He really needed Vlad to show and get the round in.

He wasn't the nervous type, but for some reason this evening he just felt wired. It was about warm enough for him to sit at a table outside; Vlad didn't deal real well with the flashing lights on the one-armed bandits and felt more at home skulking in the shadows outside. But Costello felt spooked and was jumping at the slightest movement and the loud guffaws of laughter that suddenly floated out of the pub doors.

He had just started investigating the pockets on the front of his shirt to see if he still had a stray fag, when a hand fell heavily onto his shoulder and gave him the fright of his life. Shaking like a leaf and already chiding himself for being soft, he turned his head expecting to see Vlad standing there.

It wasn't Vlad he saw; but the tall elegantly dressed stranger looking down on him was definitely a vampire. It's vibration was just not human and Costello could feel the hairs on the back of his neck start to rise. It felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the courtyard garden and that the vampire was standing in a vortex.

'I'm sorry to have startled you' said the stranger in a low, patrician drawl 'You are Michael Patrick Costello, are you not?'

'Depends who's asking' stuttered Costello getting shakily to his feet and backing away as best he could until his back was up against the courtyard wall.

The stranger put his hand into his breast pocket, withdrew a heavily embossed business card with a crest on it and presented it to him.

'Lord Kingsteington, at your service' said the vampire silkily as Costello took hold of the card with suddenly heavy, clumsy fingers.

'May I get you a drink?' the vampire continued 'Your glass appears to be empty and I myself am in need of refreshment'.

Costello gulped nervously as he was well aware of what constituted refreshment for a vampire; he was also shaken to the core at the vampire naming himself as Kingsteignton.

'Thanks' he managed to squeak 'Mine's a pint of bitter'.

'Wouldn't you rather sample some of the superb brandy that they serve in this establishment?' queried Kingsteignton clicking his fingers, and to Costello's total astonishment summoning one of the barstaff instantly to his side at the table.

'Two large brandies and a couple of those Cuban cigars' snapped Kingsteignton premptorily and the barman scurried off to do his bidding.

'Wouldn't you be more comfortable sitting' asked Kingsteignton courteously as he himself sank elegantly down onto one of the vacant seats.

Mike shuffled himself back into his seat, still clutching the business card. He found that he couldn't stop staring into the deep, dark pools that were Kingsteignton's eyes, it felt that he was being spun in a big, warm tub of melted caramel and he was drowning.....

Kingsteignton's laugh shattered the spell and Costello found himself snapping back into full reality.

'You may be a psychic, human, but you can be played just as easily as any of them. Did your friend Vladimirescu not warn you about the glamour of a vampire; about how we can seduce our prey into submission?'

Costello rubbed his eyes with his knuckles to clear them and looked cautiously back at the vampire.

'How do you know about me' he asked belligerently 'And why are you here instead of Vlad; I thought they had gone off to sort you out!'

'Two Romanian vampires and a werewolf? How you do underestimate me, my boy! Let us just say that young Vladimirescu has been regretfully detained this evening, which gives me the chance to spend some time with you and get to know you better'.

The barman came out of the pub and put a round silver tray with a decanter, two glasses, two cigars, a lighter and an ashtray on it down on the table.

Costello suddenly felt his ears buzzing. 'Whatever you do, do not drink from the decanter' came a firm, female voice in his head.

The Sun Finally Sets

Roland pulled himself together and started up the steps that led to the entrance to the apartment block. He would definitely have to take a shower now, before he popped in to say goodnight to Malvolio and Proserpine. It was just not vampire that he reeked of now; he knew that Malvolio would instantly pick up the scent that he had been aroused by a woman and the anger and resentment that followed it.

He stepped into the lift, making sure that he was not seen and thankfully let himself into his apartment. He flung open the wide glass doors that led out onto the terrace overlooking the Thames, and then went into the bathroom and turned the shower on to it's hottest setting.

He stood under the stinging hot needles of water for at least twenty minutes, trying to wash away all the grime and accumulated debris of his day. His mind was spinning; who should he trust, whose story should he believe. And always the alluring image of Eunice Batchworth was trying to push it's way to the front of his mind and into his awareness.

He turned off the jets and towelled himself down. After shrugging on a thick navy blue towelling robe, he padded back into his lounge to look over the pile of post he had brought in with him and listen to the messages promised by the winking light on the machine. He poured himself a glass of whisky from the decanter on the side and flung himself down on the sofa to go through the myriad envelopes. One in particular, caught his eye and he fished it out. The envelope was pink and was edged with lavender ribbon. It wafted a strong odour of attar of roses when he turned it over, and written on the back in lavender ink was the name and address of the sender:

Mlle Simone de Grandjean, 14 The Corniche, Monte Carlo.

Roland frowned. He had never heard of anyone by that name before, so how did they know his name and address? He was paranoid about the security of the Clan, and only trusted intimates knew addresses and phone numbers of Clan members.

He was about to rip the envelope open and, hopefully, solve the mystery when the phone rang and his answering machine whirred into action.

'De Cazalrenoux you are being played for a fool. The vampire is meeting his human psychic friend this evening at the Bricklayers Arms. Trust no-one!'

The message was delivered in a gruff, low tone, as though the speaker was talking through a scarf. Roland played back the message several times to see if he could gain more information about who had called. The number used was blocked, and Roland couldn't tell if the caller was male or female, what accent they spoke in, or even if the message had been pre-recorded.

Was the message for real or was he being set up? There were several Bricklayer's Arms in London, if he was to try and intercept the meeting he would probably have to do a mini pub-crawl!

He thought furiously for a few minutes and then decided that action was the best way forward. He sighed heavily and got on his feet to go into his bedroom and dress. As he looked out onto the terrace he could see the sun dipping down over the river in a fiery glow. He was due to turn tonight when the moon rose, so he needed to track Vladimirescu and his psychic chum down swiftly; he could not risk turning in a crowded London pub or on the street!

He had entirely forgotten about the scented pink envelope that had fallen back onto the sofa as he stood up; that now lay discarded on the black leather of the seat cushions.