Page 12 of Kept 2
I feel my face drain of all colour and my next words come out squeaky, like I’ve sucked a helium balloon.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“You knew all along, and yet you let me walk around with a death sentence hanging over my head.”
“It wouldn’t have come to that.”
“Wait,” I gasp as a new revelation dawns upon me.
“That night, that night outside the restaurant, when I fell down. That was you chasing me, wasn’t it?”
“No, you stupid woman,” he sighs, “I was protecting you. The vampire was there, following you, I almost had him in my sights. I was ready to take him out and then inexplicably he picked up a piece of paper, read it, and left at the speed of light.”
“Oh, my fucking god! You were using me as bait!”
“I’m not proud of it, Josephine. I can only tell you that I was confident,amconfident that I can kill this bastard. But the only way I can find him is to findyoubefore he does and be sure I am ready for him when he comes – and he will come for you, Josephine, you have to believe me.”
“I wouldn’t believe you if you said your head was on fire and I saw the flames bursting out of your ears, you fucktard!
What? How could you not, after all I have told you.”
“Things don’t add up.”
“For Christ’s sake, Josephine, like what?”
“Like, James; you knew a vampire was chasing me that night on your street, but you left me standing outside your house in the dark. What was that? A second chance at him biting the cherry? Maybe he would come back and rip my head off after all?”
“No,” he sighs, as I picture him adjusting his glasses in agitation, “I didn’t want you to come inside and see all the weapons. I have a veritable cache of vampire-killing devices, and I’d left them all out in case I needed to dash home and get another or, hopefully, if my ruse had worked, had him follow me home where I could have dispatched him with ease. I knew if you saw them, you would think I was a crazed psycho-killer, which, funnily enough, was the conclusion you came to anyway.”
“Dispatched,” I say quietly, thinking through all he has said, shocked by the implications.
“I’m a vampire hunter, Josephine, surely you have worked that one out for yourself by now. Hunter is not my real surname.”
“You are a Lanesborough,” I murmur.
“Yes.”
“Then he’s not coming for me,” I growl, “he’s coming for you.”
“He was,” he says, his voice no more than a whisper, “until you took both journals, Josephine. That puts you at the very top of his hit list, and believe me when I say; he won’t stop until he finds you.”
“You’ve said enough, James.”
“Just tell me, please, Josephine, let me help you. Tell me where you are.”
I feel the train slow, looking out the window I see a white sign with red and blue writing ‘Welcome to Winchester’ and my brain is spinning with options right now, but one of them I’m dead certain about – isn’t turning to James for help.
As I think this the speakers blare that we are just pulling in, and I quickly hang up, turn the phone off, and prepare to disembark.
5
So, let me get this straight,” I sigh, “there is a train that goes there, but it is a private train. So, the only way I can get there is to catch a bus from this tiny town to the next tiny town – but there is only one bus a week.”
“That’s right.”
I sigh and allow my head to fall into my hands, my elbows resting on the small shop counter.
