Chapter Four
As they went to Pete's car, not exactly running, Faith caught Marcus's arm and pulled him to a stop. "What did you mean?" she asked. "When you said they weren't very good, I mean. " Pete had stopped too, head cocked, listening. Marcus glanced at him, the bruise on his cheek standing out livid in the streetlights, and drew out his breath in a large puff! "That is the third vampire I have bested in four years of doing this," he said. "I am not the most war-like of men, and neither is Peter, for all of our training. But you must have noticed it - they were slow, and weak, and unused to resistance. I'm not sure that they even realised what the significance of the Slayer meant to them. Six vampires against the Slayer and two civilians - even civilians who understood what they were up against - it shouldn't have been over that quickly and easily."
Faith looked at Pete, expecting a reply, but all he said was, "Let's get in the car," and he stalked off to the rusty Mondeo that he ran around in. Marcus looked at Faith, then, with a shrug, followed. Faith waited a moment longer, barely noticing the misty rainfall. She looked up and down the quiet lane, past the lights of Ryans, police sirens sounding like a banshee far in the distance, rain forming dank puddles in the road. Marcus leaned his head out of the window of Pete's car and motioned to Faith to get in, but she shook her head, raindrops falling from her raven hair. She continued to look up and down the road, not focusing on anything in particular, letting her vision and her senses wash swim over the scene. Marcus leaned out further and said, "Faith - " and then the figure moved, slipped out of the shadows at the end of the road from behind the Transit where it had been hiding, and fairly bolted round the corner. "OH, GODDAMIT!" Faith shouted, and took off after the figure, feet pounding through the puddles as she sped down the road. She turned the corner barely four seconds after the figure had rounded it, but four seconds was all the other had needed, for it was nowhere to be seen. Faith looked both ways; there was not even a car in sight. Whoever it was had lost her.
She turned and went back round the corner to Pete's car, where both of the men were standing with identical expressions of childlike dismay on their faces. Marcus, in particular, looked ready to vomit. Faith rather hoped he would. "I'm sorry," he mumbled with his chin on his chest as Faith reached them. Faith ignored him, and sat in the passenger seat of the car. Wordlessly, Pete did the same, getting in on the driver's side. Marcus, head still down, got in the back. Pete immediately drove off.
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"Well?" he asked. "Is it true?" The figure slouched in the seat opposite lit a cigarette, and drew in a long smoke before he answered. "Yeah, it's her, man. She hooked up with two of the Council boys." "Shit." "You could say that," the other responded. He leaned forward. "It ain't all bad news, though. The Madman sent some goons over." "Yeah?" the first responded. "Gimme a fag if you have some juicy stuff to tell me, bruv." The smoker pulled out a battered pack of Bensons, tossed them over. They were caught in a large hand, festooned with gaudy rings. Ring man pulled out a cigarette and lit one. "Tell on, Jimmy, tell on. It's getting late, you know." Jimmy said, "Madman sent some kids over to see if she was up to scratch is what I'm thinkin'" he said. "And is she?" "Hell yes, bruv," Jimmy responded. "She wiped 'em out. Those two council boys did a job too, you know?" Rings smiled, showing his dripping fangs. "Becks one of 'em?" he asked. "Yup! He lookin' good!" "I like Becks," Rings said. "Boy got what it takes. So the Madman tries it with the Slayer and comes up six and out, right? That's gonna make him even more crazy. Good deal, good deal. Couple of little pushes could send him over the edge, right?" Jimmy put out his cigarette, and leaned forward through the smoke. "Perhaps we could do a bit of pushing ourselves, boss? Get some heat on Lucius? " "How do we do that, Jimmy, without alerting every vamp this side of the river to us? We gotta stay low key, remember. This all rests on the Slayer, now. Follow her, see what she does. I wanna know every move she makes, right? Figure out if I can use her." Rings grinned, showing more of his fangs. "She could make some mighty fine bait!" Jimmy started to laugh. Rings joined in. A couple at the bar looked over indignantly; one look at the two silenced them.
****************
About half an hour later down the road, Pete took a right turn that led off the main road and down a small residential street. He parked outside a large block of flats that bore the legend "KING COURT". "This is where I live," he said to Faith. "Five star, huh?" she replied. "What the hell am I doing here?" "If I take you to the council now, what do you think would happen?" Marcus responded. "Inquests, reports, analysis - just for your appearance. It would be hours before we even got to the attack, let alone who they were and what they were doing. It's going to be much quicker for us to figure things out using our own resources for the time being." He got out of the car, stopped, and turned back to the Slayer. His eyes were dark and serious. "You'll have to trust us, Faith." Reluctantly, she stepped out of the car and followed the two men towards the tower block.
****************
Lucius turned around, closing the book he had been reading softly, and regarded the messenger with a gentle smile. "All of them?" he asked mildly. "Y-yes, Master," he answered, literally shaking in his boots. "My scout reports that she had help, however." The gentle, mad smile vanished from the vampire's face. "Help? From whom?" "Err, I - I'm not sure, Highness," the servant replied. "They might have been human, however. They vanquished your children with some ease." "She was meant to do that, fool," said Morse hotly. "But she wasn't supposed to have help!" Lucius suddenly threw the book at the messenger. It struck with awful, inhuman force, and the assorted vampires and slaves to a man winced as the spine collided with the servant's face with a crack. Blood poured from his nose in a gush. So quickly only Morse saw him move, Lucius was on the man, licking the blood from his spurting nose at the same time as snapping his neck with one clawed hand. "Master," called Morse, a little taken aback. Lucius whipped round, blood glittering darkly from his fangs and his claws, "we will need to send out more scouts. We must know who these allies are." Lucius shook his head, sending drops of blood flying off in various directions. He did it again, and again, and finally his eyes cleared. "As always, my son, you are correct," he said, in the same mild, almost friendly tone. "She passed our first test, didn't she?" Morse nodded. "This time, however, we will up the stakes somewhat." He grinned, and Morse could see the madness return to his eyes. "This time we will send some of our own," he said.
****************
Pete's flat was small and neat, and almost totally devoid of character. There were no pictures on the walls or shelves, there was no television ("television rots your brain cells" Pete had said by way of explanation when Faith mentioned this ) and no stereo system; there was a small radio, however, in the kitchen. The only adornment Pete had afforded his living space with was a huge bookcase in the living room, which covered the back and far walls in an L-shape, and a coffee table, overflowing with newspapers, in the middle of the room. Books were everywhere; on the floor, on the armchairs and settee, on the windowsill, in the hall. Somehow, Faith had expected more of him.
Faith swiped an armload of books off one armchair and sat down. "So boys, when does the party really start around here?" she asked. Marcus sat down in the other armchair, rather uncomfortably on the pile of books that occupied it, and gave her a cross little stare. "We are serious people, miss!" he exclaimed fiercely. "We don't have time for frivolous games and nonsense - " "Ah, Marcus, here's that X-Men limited edition you were looking for," Pete said, handing him a battered comic book. Marcus blushed and seemed to shrink back in his armchair. Pete squeezed into a tiny space on the settee, squirmed a little to make a bit of room, gave up and stood again. He looked at Marcus. "The one you killed," he said. "Anything strike you about him?" "Well, his bloody elbow struck me, that's for sure," Marcus grumbled, rubbing his bruise again, but he was shaking his head as he did so. "Nothing, Peter." "I'm sure I recognised one of them, you know," Pete said in a distant, musing voice. "Something about him, some mannerism. God, I should know this!" "Hold on," Faith interjected. "It doesn't matter, right? I mean, they're vampires. They all come from the same guy, right? It doesn't matter who they are, we just have to find out where they hang out an' in we go an' boom! Get out your Shake 'n' Vac, 'cos you're gonna need it!" She was standing up, energised, eyes alight, and then she saw their faces. Both the men had broad smiles. "Um, Faith, this is London," Pete said, trying not to laugh, "eight million people live here. The city covers an area of about one hundred square miles. There are at least -" he paused, the smile no longer on his face " at least thirty-four different bands of vampires within city limits. That's just the ones we're aware of, too. There have been people here for over a thousand years, and that means there have been vampires here for a thousand years too. The ones we faced tonight could have come from anyone and from anywhere."
"Don't worry, peeps!" said a happy, murderous voice from the doorway, "I know who they came from." They all turned to see the newcomer, fear freezing their blood as the creature began to laugh.
As they went to Pete's car, not exactly running, Faith caught Marcus's arm and pulled him to a stop. "What did you mean?" she asked. "When you said they weren't very good, I mean. " Pete had stopped too, head cocked, listening. Marcus glanced at him, the bruise on his cheek standing out livid in the streetlights, and drew out his breath in a large puff! "That is the third vampire I have bested in four years of doing this," he said. "I am not the most war-like of men, and neither is Peter, for all of our training. But you must have noticed it - they were slow, and weak, and unused to resistance. I'm not sure that they even realised what the significance of the Slayer meant to them. Six vampires against the Slayer and two civilians - even civilians who understood what they were up against - it shouldn't have been over that quickly and easily."
Faith looked at Pete, expecting a reply, but all he said was, "Let's get in the car," and he stalked off to the rusty Mondeo that he ran around in. Marcus looked at Faith, then, with a shrug, followed. Faith waited a moment longer, barely noticing the misty rainfall. She looked up and down the quiet lane, past the lights of Ryans, police sirens sounding like a banshee far in the distance, rain forming dank puddles in the road. Marcus leaned his head out of the window of Pete's car and motioned to Faith to get in, but she shook her head, raindrops falling from her raven hair. She continued to look up and down the road, not focusing on anything in particular, letting her vision and her senses wash swim over the scene. Marcus leaned out further and said, "Faith - " and then the figure moved, slipped out of the shadows at the end of the road from behind the Transit where it had been hiding, and fairly bolted round the corner. "OH, GODDAMIT!" Faith shouted, and took off after the figure, feet pounding through the puddles as she sped down the road. She turned the corner barely four seconds after the figure had rounded it, but four seconds was all the other had needed, for it was nowhere to be seen. Faith looked both ways; there was not even a car in sight. Whoever it was had lost her.
She turned and went back round the corner to Pete's car, where both of the men were standing with identical expressions of childlike dismay on their faces. Marcus, in particular, looked ready to vomit. Faith rather hoped he would. "I'm sorry," he mumbled with his chin on his chest as Faith reached them. Faith ignored him, and sat in the passenger seat of the car. Wordlessly, Pete did the same, getting in on the driver's side. Marcus, head still down, got in the back. Pete immediately drove off.
****************
"Well?" he asked. "Is it true?" The figure slouched in the seat opposite lit a cigarette, and drew in a long smoke before he answered. "Yeah, it's her, man. She hooked up with two of the Council boys." "Shit." "You could say that," the other responded. He leaned forward. "It ain't all bad news, though. The Madman sent some goons over." "Yeah?" the first responded. "Gimme a fag if you have some juicy stuff to tell me, bruv." The smoker pulled out a battered pack of Bensons, tossed them over. They were caught in a large hand, festooned with gaudy rings. Ring man pulled out a cigarette and lit one. "Tell on, Jimmy, tell on. It's getting late, you know." Jimmy said, "Madman sent some kids over to see if she was up to scratch is what I'm thinkin'" he said. "And is she?" "Hell yes, bruv," Jimmy responded. "She wiped 'em out. Those two council boys did a job too, you know?" Rings smiled, showing his dripping fangs. "Becks one of 'em?" he asked. "Yup! He lookin' good!" "I like Becks," Rings said. "Boy got what it takes. So the Madman tries it with the Slayer and comes up six and out, right? That's gonna make him even more crazy. Good deal, good deal. Couple of little pushes could send him over the edge, right?" Jimmy put out his cigarette, and leaned forward through the smoke. "Perhaps we could do a bit of pushing ourselves, boss? Get some heat on Lucius? " "How do we do that, Jimmy, without alerting every vamp this side of the river to us? We gotta stay low key, remember. This all rests on the Slayer, now. Follow her, see what she does. I wanna know every move she makes, right? Figure out if I can use her." Rings grinned, showing more of his fangs. "She could make some mighty fine bait!" Jimmy started to laugh. Rings joined in. A couple at the bar looked over indignantly; one look at the two silenced them.
****************
About half an hour later down the road, Pete took a right turn that led off the main road and down a small residential street. He parked outside a large block of flats that bore the legend "KING COURT". "This is where I live," he said to Faith. "Five star, huh?" she replied. "What the hell am I doing here?" "If I take you to the council now, what do you think would happen?" Marcus responded. "Inquests, reports, analysis - just for your appearance. It would be hours before we even got to the attack, let alone who they were and what they were doing. It's going to be much quicker for us to figure things out using our own resources for the time being." He got out of the car, stopped, and turned back to the Slayer. His eyes were dark and serious. "You'll have to trust us, Faith." Reluctantly, she stepped out of the car and followed the two men towards the tower block.
****************
Lucius turned around, closing the book he had been reading softly, and regarded the messenger with a gentle smile. "All of them?" he asked mildly. "Y-yes, Master," he answered, literally shaking in his boots. "My scout reports that she had help, however." The gentle, mad smile vanished from the vampire's face. "Help? From whom?" "Err, I - I'm not sure, Highness," the servant replied. "They might have been human, however. They vanquished your children with some ease." "She was meant to do that, fool," said Morse hotly. "But she wasn't supposed to have help!" Lucius suddenly threw the book at the messenger. It struck with awful, inhuman force, and the assorted vampires and slaves to a man winced as the spine collided with the servant's face with a crack. Blood poured from his nose in a gush. So quickly only Morse saw him move, Lucius was on the man, licking the blood from his spurting nose at the same time as snapping his neck with one clawed hand. "Master," called Morse, a little taken aback. Lucius whipped round, blood glittering darkly from his fangs and his claws, "we will need to send out more scouts. We must know who these allies are." Lucius shook his head, sending drops of blood flying off in various directions. He did it again, and again, and finally his eyes cleared. "As always, my son, you are correct," he said, in the same mild, almost friendly tone. "She passed our first test, didn't she?" Morse nodded. "This time, however, we will up the stakes somewhat." He grinned, and Morse could see the madness return to his eyes. "This time we will send some of our own," he said.
****************
Pete's flat was small and neat, and almost totally devoid of character. There were no pictures on the walls or shelves, there was no television ("television rots your brain cells" Pete had said by way of explanation when Faith mentioned this ) and no stereo system; there was a small radio, however, in the kitchen. The only adornment Pete had afforded his living space with was a huge bookcase in the living room, which covered the back and far walls in an L-shape, and a coffee table, overflowing with newspapers, in the middle of the room. Books were everywhere; on the floor, on the armchairs and settee, on the windowsill, in the hall. Somehow, Faith had expected more of him.
Faith swiped an armload of books off one armchair and sat down. "So boys, when does the party really start around here?" she asked. Marcus sat down in the other armchair, rather uncomfortably on the pile of books that occupied it, and gave her a cross little stare. "We are serious people, miss!" he exclaimed fiercely. "We don't have time for frivolous games and nonsense - " "Ah, Marcus, here's that X-Men limited edition you were looking for," Pete said, handing him a battered comic book. Marcus blushed and seemed to shrink back in his armchair. Pete squeezed into a tiny space on the settee, squirmed a little to make a bit of room, gave up and stood again. He looked at Marcus. "The one you killed," he said. "Anything strike you about him?" "Well, his bloody elbow struck me, that's for sure," Marcus grumbled, rubbing his bruise again, but he was shaking his head as he did so. "Nothing, Peter." "I'm sure I recognised one of them, you know," Pete said in a distant, musing voice. "Something about him, some mannerism. God, I should know this!" "Hold on," Faith interjected. "It doesn't matter, right? I mean, they're vampires. They all come from the same guy, right? It doesn't matter who they are, we just have to find out where they hang out an' in we go an' boom! Get out your Shake 'n' Vac, 'cos you're gonna need it!" She was standing up, energised, eyes alight, and then she saw their faces. Both the men had broad smiles. "Um, Faith, this is London," Pete said, trying not to laugh, "eight million people live here. The city covers an area of about one hundred square miles. There are at least -" he paused, the smile no longer on his face " at least thirty-four different bands of vampires within city limits. That's just the ones we're aware of, too. There have been people here for over a thousand years, and that means there have been vampires here for a thousand years too. The ones we faced tonight could have come from anyone and from anywhere."
"Don't worry, peeps!" said a happy, murderous voice from the doorway, "I know who they came from." They all turned to see the newcomer, fear freezing their blood as the creature began to laugh.