The guards were banging on the door when Selene reached the house. It opened just a tiny bit, and Mrs. Landon’s alarmed face poked out.
“What’s going on?” She asked.
“Is Hector Stanley in?”
“He is.” Selene’s heart skipped a beat. “But he’s sleeping. I won’t wake him for you.”
“I’m afraid you have to let us in,” said a tall Vampire, who pushed his way past Selene and up the steps. He must have been waiting in the van. “I’m from Central Control. It’s imperative that you let us in.” He flashed some kind of badge at Mrs. Landon, who acknowledged it and opened the door, allowing him to pass inside. Before he entered, he whispered something to the guards who went back to the van.
Selene recognised his face, but she wasn’t sure where from. It irked her. Her knees were weak as she toppled into the house behind him.
“What’s the noise down there?”
Selene looked up, to see Hector leaning over the banister, wearing a red silk dressing gown. She felt her stomach plummet to the floor, almost taking the rest of her body with it. For a split second he met her gaze and looked away; it made her whole body flush with heat.
“These gentlemen have come from –," said Mrs Landon.
“Hector, I’ve brought –," interrupted the Vampire.
“Here? You’ve brought him here? In the middle of the night?” Hector began to hurry along the landing and down the stairs. Meanwhile, the two guards were dragging someone into the house. Selene moved to the side of the vast hallway, pressing her back to the wall. Something was wrong; very wrong. She had never seen Hector react like that; he was always so cool and collected, as though nothing could disturb him.
“I can’t keep him secret at Central Control. It’s too dangerous," said the Vampire.
“I can’t keep him here, in my home!” Hector was gesticulating wildly, his silk robe flapping open, revealing his muscled chest beneath.
Selene looked over to where the two guards stood, propping up a figure that would have fallen without their support. He, she assumed it was a he because of his height and build, was wearing the black outfit worn by prisoners about to be bled, but it was ripped and dirty in places, as though he had been kicked about and rolled in dust. His head was covered with a black sack, and his hands were tied behind his back.
“Hector, I’ve done you a lot of favours over the years. I’ve kept your secrets and done your dirty work. This is the first time I’ve asked you to do something for me, and even now it’s because I’m trying to do something for you.” The Vampire slid his hands into his pockets, affecting a relaxation which Selene could tell he didn’t really feel. I know who he is: Professor Andrews! His face was on the side of the mobile blood donation units.
Hector exhaled loudly; a human affectation.
“Fine. Take him to the study, down the hall on the left. And then I want your guards to get out, and move their van from outside my house.” The guards dragged the limp figure down the hall, and Professor Andrews followed behind.
Hector lingered, and looked at Selene. They held one another’s gaze, and although no words were spoken, so much was said.
Then Hector turned to focus on Selene, and she almost smiled in relief, her desire for his attention so nearly sated.
“Get out.” The words were harsh, but the tone was kind.
“What?” She asked.
“You can’t be here now. You have to leave. I don’t care where you go, just get out.”
“But Hector...”
“For Blood’s sake Selene, get out!” He shouted, exasperated, and Selene turned and ran from the house, unable to comprehend what had just happened. The front door slammed behind her.
But she stopped on the porch, leaning against one of the white columns.
Why do I need to leave? What’s going on here?
Just then she heard footsteps inside the house, and she ran down the steps, down to the basement entrance, where she hid in the shadows as the guards exited the house above.
“What does Hector Stanley want with that prisoner?”
“No idea. Don’t ask questions. It’s beyond our remit.”
“Did you see the girl, Selene?”
“Yeh. I wanted to ask for an autograph, but it didn’t seem like the right moment.”
"I've seen her dance."
“Wish I could afford one like her.”
“I'll bet she tastes sweet as hell.”
The two guards plodded down the steps and walked to the black van, parked just outside. They got in and drove round the corner, where they would wait for Professor Andrews somewhere inconspicuous.
Selene could feel her heart drumming a rapid tattoo. She held her breath until the guards had left, and then let herself in the basement door. She ran through the house and unlocked a door that led to the back garden. She crept up the stairs and round to the side of the house.
The window of Hector’s study was open; it was still hot and stifling and she knew he liked to let the night air in. She crawled along the ground until she was directly beneath the window, and then, grasping the window ledge with both hands, she pulled herself up slowly until her eyes and nose were above it.
Inside, she could see Hector and Professor Andrews sitting the prisoner in a chair. His head, still covered with the black cloth, sagged into his chest.
He must be drugged.
“Did you run tests?” Hector asked.
“We tried. We ran some, but they didn’t show anything unusual. Whatever it is, it’s not biological.”
“Where did he come from?”
“We don’t know. He won’t tell us anything. We don’t even know his name.”
“You’ve had him for a week, and you know nothing?” Hector’s voice was laden with disbelief.
“We know this,” he said, moving towards the prisoner and grabbing his arm. He pulled up his sleeve and raised the inside of his wrist so Hector could see it. The prisoner’s arm had no resistance to it, as though it had no strength. Selene could just about make out some kind of black mark on the inner wrist.
Professor Andrews did the same with the other arm, and there too was an identical black mark.
Hector moved closer, and knelt down, so he could easily inspect them.
“It’s not possible,” he said.
“And yet there it is: the tattoo.”
“No one escapes from Epershand. The security is tighter than even that at Central Control.”
“Well, you know how you can find out.”
“I won’t do it.”
“Hector, we have to know who this man is. And these marks are all we have to go on.”
“Arthur would never tell me.”
“He would. He’s your brother.”
He has a brother?
“We haven’t spoken in years.”
“Blood is thicker than water, Hector.”
“But even if this man did escape from Epershand, and even if Arthur can tell us where he came from, that wouldn’t explain why his blood is...the way it is.”
“No. That’s what we need to work out. What is it that makes this man different from every other prisoner, every other human who has ever been bled. Hundreds of humans are bled every day. Nothing like this has ever been reported. Never has this happened at one of the mobile blood donation units. They just come in, sit down, a Vampire sucks on their necks briefly, and then everyone goes home happy.”
“And you make a fortune from it.”
“Well, not a fortune. I’m not exactly a blood merchant. I’m more of a....facilitator of the peace. If blood donation wasn’t enforced, then we Vampires would run wild. Especially the ones who can’t afford their own humans to feed on when and as they wish. If feeding wasn’t controlled, we would kill all the humans in no time, and then starve to death ourselves. A careful balance must be maintained. Although someone like you probably never has to go to a mobile unit; you’ve got so many humans of your own.”
Hector nodded, and walked towards the open window. Selene ducked down, sitting on the hard ground beneath and holding her breath.
“Speaking of owning your own humans,” Professor Andrews continued, “that was her, wasn’t it; in the hall?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve never fed on her? Tasted her blood?”
“No.”
“Never sent her to a blood donation unit?”
“No.”
“Never...?”
“No.”
“But Hector, she’s eighteen.”
Selene prised herself off the ground and peered into the study window again. Hector was sitting in a large leather chair, which rocked slightly with his weight. He dropped his head to his hands and let out a groan.
“I thought I was ready. Everything we worked for was building up to that one moment, and then....” He stopped, and raised his head, and looked at the prisoner who slumped in the chair. “And then this damn prisoner goes and kills a Bleeder.”
“She should never have been created.”
“That’s not for you to judge. I didn’t pay you for your opinion.”
“No, you paid me for my expertise. And I obliged.”
“You wanted to see if you could do it, to see if you were capable of it. You wanted it as much as I did.”
“We were fools, Hector. All these years, this secret has been weighing on my conscience. Everywhere I look, everywhere I turn, I think I see them coming for me.”
“And so what if they did? Our long, eternal, blood-forsaken lives would be over. Would that be so bad? No longer condemned to walk the earth forever and ever?” Hector stood now, one hand pressed against the wall, his arm outstretched, his weight leaning into it. “But we don’t even know if the experiment was successful. It hasn’t been tested.”
“That was your job.” Professor Andrews folded his arms over his chest.
Selene’s head was swimming. She didn’t understand half of what she had heard, but she knew that this man, Professor Andrews, had somehow had a hand in her creation. And that it had put both him and Hector in danger. She was a secret that had tortured them both for eighteen years.
“Would you take it back, if you could?” Professor Andrews stepped closer to Hector as he spoke.
“What?”
“Your soul.”
“For Blood’s sake I don’t know. Twenty years ago I would have said yes immediately. Now I’m not so sure. This life, if you can call it life, has given me everything I could ever want or need: money, power, Selene.”
“You won’t have her for long if they find out you haven’t obeyed the rules. You won’t have any of those things for long.”
“I’m not ready. I thought I was. I would have done it on the night of the Offering, but then this little –.” Hector moved towards the prisoner and grabbed the black cloth from his head, pulling it so hard that the prisoner’s upper body lurched forward.
Selene gasped. The man’s face was bloated, bloodied and almost unrecognisable. His dark hair was flattened to his forehead, stuck with sweat and blood. But she knew him.
Xander.