Hey! Well, I've decided to answer all my reviews now, coz so many people
seem to do it and I don't want to be left out!
Adamindgirl: Yeah, I don't know how I even got this idea in the first place! As you can see I am updating it as you asked.
Tamashii: Thanks! Wow, so many compliments in one review!
Eri: Well, you'll get what you asked for in this chapter!
Apsara: Merci, thanks!
Lizzy: Oh no, not you! ^_^ Thanks dearie.
Greeneyes: Hey. You'll find out just what Jake is in this chapter, I do believe. Thanks for reviewing!
Also, here's a shameless plug for my other story, Ever Unwilling. It's not so bad, so go and read it! It's about assassins and stuff!
Now, on with the story! Oh wait, I don't own the Night World series, coz the fantabulous LJ Smith does, of course, and her publishers. But the idea and original characters I made are ALL MINE. I don't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Grimacing with embarrassment and foreboding, Kel reflected on the bizarre conversation she and Jake had enjoyed. As she plodded along, her feet dragged and slowed her, even though she was determined to make it home as soon as possible. Her energy reserves were seriously low; she needed to catch some sleep before she returned to the office; that was certain. She couldn't help but wonder what Jake would do. Fire her? Humiliate her in front of all her colleagues? The possibilities were endless and generally all bad news for her. At least, she thought with a triumphant smile, the article had been written and submitted before the deadline. No matter what he did, he could not take that away from her. At once the anxiety slipped away, replaced by a sense of achievement and pleasure at beating him for once.
London traffic was harsh. Having lived in the bustling, mannerless city all her life, she knew that despite some of the less pleasant aspects, it was a great place to be. Even though the drivers were abusive and all suffered from road rage, even though it was polluted, and even though it was always crowded. It was alive, and there was always something to do. Life in London was anything but boring.
Kel stared down at the drab grey pavement, adorned with discarded food wrappers, crusts of dog poo and hardened chewing gum, and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, and avoiding the various unsavoury obstacles that littered her path. Her eyelids were drooping, they felt as if they were lead rimmed, and her vision was unfocused and bleary.
By some sort of miracle, Kel made it home without falling asleep by the roadside. Dad clearly wasn't home, as always; his car was not parked out front. She surveyed the tiny, three-bedroomed semi with a feeling of contentment and bitterness. The two were always intertwined here; it was impossible to feel happy without a hint of sadness, and even feeling sorrowful always had that cheery touch to it. The house was clean and sparkling, the blue paint shining freshly on the door and window ledges, the brass knocker glinting golden in the sunlight. A low, red brick wall surrounded the tiny, grassy front garden, a gate in it to allow access. As she opened the black, wrought iron gate, which squealed in protest, and shuffled wearily up the gravely pathway, she noticed a crisp wrapper dropped callously on the lawn, the only blight in a sea of verdant lushness. Frowning, she retrieved it, even though it wasted her time and strength. Her mum toiled daily to keep the place neat and tidy; she was a real workhorse. Kel felt that she should do her bit to preserve it.
Finally, thankfully, she got indoors.
"Mum? You home?" she called. There was no answer.
Kel was glad of this. At least there would be no awkward questions for now. Feeling as if she was about to fall down with exhaustion, she laboriously pulled herself upstairs and into her room. Once there she collapsed heavily upon her bed, immediately without preamble fell into a deep, dreamless, fitful slumber.
***
Jake, who was still at The Sound's office, smiled humourlessly as he sensed Kel sleeping. He'd mentally seen her home, as she'd been almost ready to drop, and besides, the kid had worked half the night, and even he had to respect that sort of dogged determination. Relaxing in his own office, which of course was much larger that hers, he wondered why the girl was so hell-bent at beating him at his own game, a feat that she would never achieve. He had lived many years, and throughout his long life he'd always been surrounded by music. From the courante and the basse-danse that were popular in the Renaissance, through the Baroque, Classical and Romantic periods, into Experimental music, popular stuff, r 'n' b, rock, jazz.. He'd seen them all. And with that kind of first hand knowledge, and his thirst and love for sound that rivalled his lust for blood, he knew he was pretty much unbeatable in his field.
He stood, gazing unseeingly from the window, looking out to the pale, washed out horizon of the early morn, noticing that already a more vibrant, lively tone of colour was seeping, bleeding in, the brighter hues teasing and usurping the sallow ones. Kelsey had talent; he could see that. But how much of it, he could not guess, though he had a secret, deeply suppressed inkling that indeed she had the potential to be a brilliant writer. The thought that the human would be better than him, a lamia vampire of the Redfern line, was galling to say the least.
But he had to admit, if anyone was going to beat him, he'd rather it be this impudent, courageous, beautiful vermin, than any other run-of-the-mill blood bank crawling around London. It was fun to tease her; he always had the added advantage of knowing just what she was thinking, due to his telepathy. However, Jake was going to see to it that she did not usurp his position, and he wasn't going to be sentimental about it. What was one human in the grand scheme of things?
As he sensed the first of The Sound's many employees enter the building for another busy day of writing, researching, listening, reviewing and visiting, he strode back to his desk, hands casually stuck in the pockets of his smart navy trouser suit. On the top of the precarious pile of papers his in-tray was a letter, in a normal, milky-white envelope looking like any other. The typing on it was the usual boring Times New Roman, stating in sterile size ten characters that it was addressed to Jake Tremaine. The only defining characteristic of it, and the most important one, was the logo on the front of the neatly pasted stamp. It was a black iris.
This alone made Jake seize it viciously, ripping it carelessly open, catching the letter as it fell floating to the ground. He shook it open, and began to read the swift, black lettering that had clearly been written with a quill.
"Dear Jacob,
Things are developing as expected. My new protégés are superb, perfection in fact. Much better that the last group of lackwits. I've finally found a name for them - Bloodmoon. What do you think? At the time of writing the tour is going splendidly, radio and television coverage is good, and we're getting lots of outside interest. As part of the tour, they are performing at seven 'o' clock tonight, at the Iris. As planned, I've booked the venue, and it will be open to all, though the vermin may find things a little... uncomfortable. Feel free to send along someone from The Sound this time. You never send anyone anymore, after the first time... That young lady was very nice, I enjoyed her immensely.
Yours sincerely,
Malachi."
He chuckled as he studied the document. Malachi Redfern was a cold, calculating and cunning vampire, his only brother in the world. He was vindictive, sly and clever, and that was why he'd risen to the top at Redfern Records, which was a successful record label and company both in the music business and the Night World. Jake was very glad that he was not caught up too much in the whole Night World thing. Changing his name from Redfern to Tremaine and escaping the trappings of the vampire society had allowed him to be truly free for a time, to pursue his dream of writing about music. But now, at last, things were starting to catch up with him, and increasingly Malachi had been getting him mixed up in it all over again, urging him to at least to something to help the Night World in the search for the last Wild Power, or the location of the others. Jake couldn't help but feel slightly guilty; he did have a tiny sliver of his conscience left. Malachi, on the other hand, was absolutely merciless, and he would stop a.
He sighed silently as he fed the paper into the shredder. What to do? He had no desire to become involved with their business, but they were being so manipulative and pushy, maybe it would be easier to give in just a bit.
He wasn't sure just what Malachi had planned this time. The label had a reputation for producing good music; he'd heard some of the earlier bands they'd signed and their music had been pretty decent. But, Jake was sure it had some sort of hidden agenda, and he did not want to know what dark and twisted schemes his brother was concocting. It was best to ignore it all, wasn't it?
As he heard a sharp rap of knuckles upon his door, he inwardly shoved his personal musings aside.
"Come in," he said authoritatively, reaching for the next document in his in-tray. Lucy, his dipsy and utterly useless secretary peered nervously round the door, not daring to make contact with the threshold.
"Mr Tremaine," she said, her whiny tone grating on his ears. "It's the server, I swear I didn't touch a thing, but it just went all funny, and."
"I'm just coming, Lucy," he replied, unable to keep the annoyance from his voice as he strode to the door. He knew it was going to be a long day.
***
As Kel woke, she wondered just what time it was. Already, she knew she was rested and ready for action. It was a delightful feeling. All her exhaustion and misery had been swept away by her sleep, but the niggling worry of her punishment still lingered. She realised with a start that someone had pulled a duvet over her, but that was no problem. Probably mum, knowing her. Lazily, she turned to face the alarm clock by her bedside. It told her it was 2:05pm in cheery, flashing red numbers. Perfect, she grinned to herself as she slid gracefully out of bed. Was it normal to be this happy? She rummaged around, searching for a change of clothes and a towel. Kel knew her room was like her own personal abyss; for the uneducated fool it was impossible to move around or find anything, but for her, skilled in the art of locating things in piles of paper, books, plates and mugs, pens, cuddly toys, clothes and bed sheets, it was easy.
A stack of all the things she needed draped messily in her arms, Kel made her way to the bathroom.
45 minutes later, Kel was walking quickly back to The Sound, ready to face whatever Jake decided to throw at her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
OK that's it! Just a warning though - I'm doing my French oral and Music practical exams pretty soon, so I may not update for a while. Nevertheless, reviews would be appreciated! Even if you've reviewed before, do it again! Hee hee. Thanks ever so much guys!
Adamindgirl: Yeah, I don't know how I even got this idea in the first place! As you can see I am updating it as you asked.
Tamashii: Thanks! Wow, so many compliments in one review!
Eri: Well, you'll get what you asked for in this chapter!
Apsara: Merci, thanks!
Lizzy: Oh no, not you! ^_^ Thanks dearie.
Greeneyes: Hey. You'll find out just what Jake is in this chapter, I do believe. Thanks for reviewing!
Also, here's a shameless plug for my other story, Ever Unwilling. It's not so bad, so go and read it! It's about assassins and stuff!
Now, on with the story! Oh wait, I don't own the Night World series, coz the fantabulous LJ Smith does, of course, and her publishers. But the idea and original characters I made are ALL MINE. I don't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Grimacing with embarrassment and foreboding, Kel reflected on the bizarre conversation she and Jake had enjoyed. As she plodded along, her feet dragged and slowed her, even though she was determined to make it home as soon as possible. Her energy reserves were seriously low; she needed to catch some sleep before she returned to the office; that was certain. She couldn't help but wonder what Jake would do. Fire her? Humiliate her in front of all her colleagues? The possibilities were endless and generally all bad news for her. At least, she thought with a triumphant smile, the article had been written and submitted before the deadline. No matter what he did, he could not take that away from her. At once the anxiety slipped away, replaced by a sense of achievement and pleasure at beating him for once.
London traffic was harsh. Having lived in the bustling, mannerless city all her life, she knew that despite some of the less pleasant aspects, it was a great place to be. Even though the drivers were abusive and all suffered from road rage, even though it was polluted, and even though it was always crowded. It was alive, and there was always something to do. Life in London was anything but boring.
Kel stared down at the drab grey pavement, adorned with discarded food wrappers, crusts of dog poo and hardened chewing gum, and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, and avoiding the various unsavoury obstacles that littered her path. Her eyelids were drooping, they felt as if they were lead rimmed, and her vision was unfocused and bleary.
By some sort of miracle, Kel made it home without falling asleep by the roadside. Dad clearly wasn't home, as always; his car was not parked out front. She surveyed the tiny, three-bedroomed semi with a feeling of contentment and bitterness. The two were always intertwined here; it was impossible to feel happy without a hint of sadness, and even feeling sorrowful always had that cheery touch to it. The house was clean and sparkling, the blue paint shining freshly on the door and window ledges, the brass knocker glinting golden in the sunlight. A low, red brick wall surrounded the tiny, grassy front garden, a gate in it to allow access. As she opened the black, wrought iron gate, which squealed in protest, and shuffled wearily up the gravely pathway, she noticed a crisp wrapper dropped callously on the lawn, the only blight in a sea of verdant lushness. Frowning, she retrieved it, even though it wasted her time and strength. Her mum toiled daily to keep the place neat and tidy; she was a real workhorse. Kel felt that she should do her bit to preserve it.
Finally, thankfully, she got indoors.
"Mum? You home?" she called. There was no answer.
Kel was glad of this. At least there would be no awkward questions for now. Feeling as if she was about to fall down with exhaustion, she laboriously pulled herself upstairs and into her room. Once there she collapsed heavily upon her bed, immediately without preamble fell into a deep, dreamless, fitful slumber.
***
Jake, who was still at The Sound's office, smiled humourlessly as he sensed Kel sleeping. He'd mentally seen her home, as she'd been almost ready to drop, and besides, the kid had worked half the night, and even he had to respect that sort of dogged determination. Relaxing in his own office, which of course was much larger that hers, he wondered why the girl was so hell-bent at beating him at his own game, a feat that she would never achieve. He had lived many years, and throughout his long life he'd always been surrounded by music. From the courante and the basse-danse that were popular in the Renaissance, through the Baroque, Classical and Romantic periods, into Experimental music, popular stuff, r 'n' b, rock, jazz.. He'd seen them all. And with that kind of first hand knowledge, and his thirst and love for sound that rivalled his lust for blood, he knew he was pretty much unbeatable in his field.
He stood, gazing unseeingly from the window, looking out to the pale, washed out horizon of the early morn, noticing that already a more vibrant, lively tone of colour was seeping, bleeding in, the brighter hues teasing and usurping the sallow ones. Kelsey had talent; he could see that. But how much of it, he could not guess, though he had a secret, deeply suppressed inkling that indeed she had the potential to be a brilliant writer. The thought that the human would be better than him, a lamia vampire of the Redfern line, was galling to say the least.
But he had to admit, if anyone was going to beat him, he'd rather it be this impudent, courageous, beautiful vermin, than any other run-of-the-mill blood bank crawling around London. It was fun to tease her; he always had the added advantage of knowing just what she was thinking, due to his telepathy. However, Jake was going to see to it that she did not usurp his position, and he wasn't going to be sentimental about it. What was one human in the grand scheme of things?
As he sensed the first of The Sound's many employees enter the building for another busy day of writing, researching, listening, reviewing and visiting, he strode back to his desk, hands casually stuck in the pockets of his smart navy trouser suit. On the top of the precarious pile of papers his in-tray was a letter, in a normal, milky-white envelope looking like any other. The typing on it was the usual boring Times New Roman, stating in sterile size ten characters that it was addressed to Jake Tremaine. The only defining characteristic of it, and the most important one, was the logo on the front of the neatly pasted stamp. It was a black iris.
This alone made Jake seize it viciously, ripping it carelessly open, catching the letter as it fell floating to the ground. He shook it open, and began to read the swift, black lettering that had clearly been written with a quill.
"Dear Jacob,
Things are developing as expected. My new protégés are superb, perfection in fact. Much better that the last group of lackwits. I've finally found a name for them - Bloodmoon. What do you think? At the time of writing the tour is going splendidly, radio and television coverage is good, and we're getting lots of outside interest. As part of the tour, they are performing at seven 'o' clock tonight, at the Iris. As planned, I've booked the venue, and it will be open to all, though the vermin may find things a little... uncomfortable. Feel free to send along someone from The Sound this time. You never send anyone anymore, after the first time... That young lady was very nice, I enjoyed her immensely.
Yours sincerely,
Malachi."
He chuckled as he studied the document. Malachi Redfern was a cold, calculating and cunning vampire, his only brother in the world. He was vindictive, sly and clever, and that was why he'd risen to the top at Redfern Records, which was a successful record label and company both in the music business and the Night World. Jake was very glad that he was not caught up too much in the whole Night World thing. Changing his name from Redfern to Tremaine and escaping the trappings of the vampire society had allowed him to be truly free for a time, to pursue his dream of writing about music. But now, at last, things were starting to catch up with him, and increasingly Malachi had been getting him mixed up in it all over again, urging him to at least to something to help the Night World in the search for the last Wild Power, or the location of the others. Jake couldn't help but feel slightly guilty; he did have a tiny sliver of his conscience left. Malachi, on the other hand, was absolutely merciless, and he would stop a.
He sighed silently as he fed the paper into the shredder. What to do? He had no desire to become involved with their business, but they were being so manipulative and pushy, maybe it would be easier to give in just a bit.
He wasn't sure just what Malachi had planned this time. The label had a reputation for producing good music; he'd heard some of the earlier bands they'd signed and their music had been pretty decent. But, Jake was sure it had some sort of hidden agenda, and he did not want to know what dark and twisted schemes his brother was concocting. It was best to ignore it all, wasn't it?
As he heard a sharp rap of knuckles upon his door, he inwardly shoved his personal musings aside.
"Come in," he said authoritatively, reaching for the next document in his in-tray. Lucy, his dipsy and utterly useless secretary peered nervously round the door, not daring to make contact with the threshold.
"Mr Tremaine," she said, her whiny tone grating on his ears. "It's the server, I swear I didn't touch a thing, but it just went all funny, and."
"I'm just coming, Lucy," he replied, unable to keep the annoyance from his voice as he strode to the door. He knew it was going to be a long day.
***
As Kel woke, she wondered just what time it was. Already, she knew she was rested and ready for action. It was a delightful feeling. All her exhaustion and misery had been swept away by her sleep, but the niggling worry of her punishment still lingered. She realised with a start that someone had pulled a duvet over her, but that was no problem. Probably mum, knowing her. Lazily, she turned to face the alarm clock by her bedside. It told her it was 2:05pm in cheery, flashing red numbers. Perfect, she grinned to herself as she slid gracefully out of bed. Was it normal to be this happy? She rummaged around, searching for a change of clothes and a towel. Kel knew her room was like her own personal abyss; for the uneducated fool it was impossible to move around or find anything, but for her, skilled in the art of locating things in piles of paper, books, plates and mugs, pens, cuddly toys, clothes and bed sheets, it was easy.
A stack of all the things she needed draped messily in her arms, Kel made her way to the bathroom.
45 minutes later, Kel was walking quickly back to The Sound, ready to face whatever Jake decided to throw at her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
OK that's it! Just a warning though - I'm doing my French oral and Music practical exams pretty soon, so I may not update for a while. Nevertheless, reviews would be appreciated! Even if you've reviewed before, do it again! Hee hee. Thanks ever so much guys!
