Hunter and Alex headed towards one of the white doors and Hunter took out a key from his pocket, one of those awkward kinds with a heavy plastic tag attached. He inserted it into the lock and turned.
When the door swung open I saw Mort sitting on a large double bed with purple and green striped sheets, going through the contents of a cardboard folder with ‘CHRISTOPHER EVERDEEN’ typed across it with what looked like a typewriter’s print. He looked up as we entered. “Hey guys. What are you doing here, Anne?”
“No particular reason.” I walked up next to him and picked up another one of his folders, this time with ‘ALEXIS ROSE’ typed on it. I flicked it open and a load of files spilled out. I caught one; a black and white Polaroid picture of Alexis dressed in a flowered, conservative, long dress. She looked exactly the same as she did now; same cascade of long blonde hair flowing down her back and tall, slender frame. ‘Brighton, 1958’ was scribbled underneath. Fifty-four years ago and she hadn’t aged a day.
“She wanted to talk to you,” Hunter filled in, seeing that I wasn’t going to talk. “Brittany left her a note.”
I started to scrabble about the floor for the rest of the files, trying to put them back into the folder without creasing any. Another piece of paper caught my eye. ‘Swansea – Three Nights’ Blitz, 19th-22nd February’ it read in smudged type, there was a long list of names underneath it. One name was circled in red ink: ‘Alexis Thomas’.
Mort sat up, more attentive. “What did the note say?”
“Well, Anne has it.”
I looked up from the floor at my name, the overstuffed folder clenched in my hand, files hanging out at odd angles. “What?”
“Brittany’s note…?” Alex prompted.
“Oh, uh, yeah.” I put the folder back on the pile. “Her note… I got distracted by these…”
“Well don’t be,” Hunter snapped. “You’re here for a reason.”
I rolled my eyes at his impatience, fishing the note out of my pocket. It was crumpled by now; I’d folded and reread it so many times. “Anne; You wanted to find out about how we eat. This is the best explanation you’re going to get. Please help her, – B,” I read out.
“Was there anything else with it?”
“There was this big, brass key. Hang on; I think I have it with me…” I rummaged around my pockets again and drew out the key. “What do you think it’s for?”
Mort shrugged and reached for it. “It looks like a door key; it would be for a quite old door. Brass door handle… belonging to a hotel or something like that, since it has that number on top. I’d say it would unlock a room… within a mile radius, if that’s how they’re feeding without us detecting it.”
“And inside the room…?”
“I don’t know. But whatever it is won’t be good.”
“Brilliant,” I said. “That’s going to be so much fun to find.”
“Well you’re not going to find it. We are,” Mort said.
I snatched the key back from him and clutched it tightly in my hand. “Hell no, I’m not going to sit back and watch while you find this room without me!”
“You’re not even going to be watching. If you give us the key and the note this will be done more quickly. This room is hardly going to be found if you’re just searching.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Anne, you’re inexperienced and completely reckless, you have no idea what the hell is going on most of the time – how exactly do you plan on doing this? It’s better if you just leave it to us. We’re the vampire hunters, we can do this easily and if there’s anything dangerous behind that door then we can deal with it quickly and easily,” he said levelly.
YOU ARE READING
Reckless
VampireSome things are just unintended... like bumping into a conceited vampire at a party, hating his guts then - against all your better judgement and frequent protests - inexplicably making him believe that you've fallen in love with him. Then before yo...
Reckless - Chapter Twenty-One
Start from the beginning
