Page 35 of Kept
Or not grave enough, depending on your point of view.
“Did you break her head off?”
“No, Gerald, I didn’t need to, she was dead after a few dozen bones were crushed to dust – weak as piss.”
“My dear Nicholas,” he sighed, “if she is truly a hunter, she will need a great deal more than that to kill her. Was she blooded?”
I frowned as I realised my mistake.
“I didn’t smell it on her. Oh, fuck! That little bitch.”
“Do share, please, the suspense is killing me,” he drawled.
“She was so full of milk, and before that, so heavily doused in perfume, I should have realised why – it wasn’t that she was concerned I would drink her – she didn’t want me to know she had the blood.”
“Yes.”
I can almost picture him shaking his head on the other side of the line at my stupidity.
“Clearly your emotions and instincts are thrown due to the fact you are in Ereston,” he said, throwing me some condescension, “because otherwise, you would have noticed this immediately. And I’m sure, Nicholas, I don’t need to tell you that if she is blooded, she will be alive. You and I both know the only way to kill them after they have taken part in the rituals, consumed vampire blood, is to lop their disgusting little heads off and burn their bodies.”
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
“So now,” he sighed, “we not only have a team on the hunt for us, we have a team most likely already blooded. Which means; very strong, very smart obviously to have outwitted you, and if your journals reach the wrong hands we may very well find ourselves top of their hit list.”
“Me, Gerald, not you.”
“My dear friend. Who do you associate with most? It won’t take them long to work out our friendship. No, we are all in danger now.”
“I need to find out where the journal went. And I need to destroy the landscape designer,” I mused.
“The book first,” he admonished, “the huntress will be on the run now, there is no use chasing after shadows. Find where she sent it and phone me when you know. I will alert some of our friends to be more careful than usual. But Nicholas.”
“Yes.”
“You need to leave that place. It fucks with your mind. It is unhealthy for you to dwell in the past, to focus on memories best lost to time. Leave, please.”
“I’ll call you as soon as I know something, Gerald.”
“Good, I’m off on a date now. Do you know, old man, I think I have narrowed down my search for my next Kept to two. I do believe I shall have one next time we meet.”
“Take your time, Gerald. I’ll call you.”
I hung up then and growled with rage. How stupid could I have been? To have been tricked by a mere woman, a Lanesborough no less.
Gerald is right; it is this place, the memories of her…. even after all these hundreds of years, my heart still aches, my mind is still clouded with grief and loss.
New Entry
I smiled over the phone, trying to impress friendliness in my tone, as I spoke to the postmistress of my small village.
I could not come down in daylight, of course, but I could most certainly visit or phone after hours.
Rather than terrifying the poor old dear, I chose a call tonight, although this would have changed had she not given me the information I desired. But I knew she would, because the entire town is mine.
Situated as it is on my Estate, nearly all the residents are tenants. Unlike neighbouring landholders, I was never reduced to selling my property, but also unlike others, I look after my tenants.
I have not eaten any of them in centuries; they serve me faithfully and are mine to protect. Given that, I know they will help me with any request I have, and so I am pulling a few strings to help combat the late Lucy’s perfidy.
