Page 5 of A Vampire in a Pear Tree
“A photo?I don’t think I have one.He’s been in the Hour until a year ago, and I certainly haven’t taken a photo of him.But he’s very distinctive looking.He takes after his father that way.He’s very tall, and has what the ladies call salt-and-pepper hair, which unfortunately he wears in a hip-hop style.”
Hip-hop style?I wondered what that was.
“He has pale gray eyes with a thick black ring around the colored part.What do they call it?”
“Iris?”I asked, making notes.
“Yes.He’s also very handsome.That he gets from my side of the family.My father—benighted as he was—was very handsome.It’s why he had so many women after my mother died.I have twenty-seven brothers, and four sisters.Or I did have.Now there are three of my sisters remaining.Owain left sometime in the last couple of hours.I had to leave the house to procure an item from a mage, and when I returned, he had escaped.”
“Escaped?”I repeated, my sense of unease growing.What the hell was going on with this woman?And did I want to get mixed up with whatever it was?
I glanced around the small, somewhat damp, and completely depressing room, and shook my head at my own thoughts.I didn’t have a choice.A job was a job was a job.
“Left,” she corrected.“Him and the bird.Did I mention her?She’s a raven—my family has an affinity with them—but one of her wings doesn’t work right, so she’s always attached to Owain in some way or other.Truly, you don’t have to worry about her.She’s nothing but trouble, so I won’t be bothered if you can’t find her.It’s Owain that matters.”
I bit back both the comment that I didn’t tolerate people who abused animals, including abandonment, and the fact that as a knocker, I also had the ability to talk to birds and a handful of other creatures, and instead made a note that the mysterious Owain had a bird with him.
“How quickly can you find him?”Jerry asked.
“I don’t quite know until I get out there and see what sort of a trail he left,” I said, then felt obligated to add, “As the Committee exchange probably told you, I am a provisional thief taker, so I don’t have a lot of practice tracking, although it is in my heritage, and my cousin has been guiding me.He’s quite a well-known thief taker.Can you tell me what elemental class, if any, your son belongs to?”
“He’s a thane,” she said abruptly.“All my sons are thanes, although that is part of the present situation with Owain.”
I had Google up and was searching before she finished.“Your sons are kings?”I asked, a bit overwhelmed at the thought of such a daunting first job.
“No, they’re thanes.They are the creators of the race of Dark Ones, although they didn’t know at the time that would be the result of the curse.And of course, all of them had sons, and the sins of the fathers passed to the sons, which is why the Dark Ones are the way they are.True, they went through some interim stage where they exploded all the time, but they worked past that with some mortal blood mixed into their gene pool.”
“Hold up,” I said, still staring at nothing as I tried to unpick her explanation.“You’re saying that your son Owain created vampires?”
“No.Owain and his brothers were cursed.That led to the creation of Dark Ones.Did you not listen to me?I’d have thought that someone in your position would be more respectful of clients.Can you find Owain, or not?”
I thought of my almost nonexistent bank balance.I thought of Savian spending so much time over the last few days imparting to me his wisdom, and I thought about how miserable I was living in a small room in a gloomy student house.
“Yes, I can find him,” I said, hoping I wasn’t mistaken.“If he’s related to vampires, he’ll shed sanguine.I should be able to find that marker.”
“What sanguine?”she asked.“What marker?”
“Every immortal has a marker trait that is unique to them.Demons leave demon smoke soot everywhere they go.My cousin Savian’s wife is a dragon, so she leaves dragon scales.Dark Ones leave sanguine as a marker.It’s kind of an arcane-based blood residue that thief takers can see.If you give me your address, I’ll head right over and see if I can’t catch his trail.”
We spent a few more minutes discussing fees, timelines, and details concerning Owain’s appearance.By the time I hung up, excitement had pushed ahead of the doubt that filled my mind, and I packed up my thief taker’s kit (on loan from Savian until I had my own) and set off to a prestigious neighborhood half an hour’s train ride away.
“I will show you the room where Owain was ...er ...staying,” Jerry announced when I arrived, spinning around in the doorway in a manner that left me dodging her long blonde hair.
“That would be helpful,” I said, studying the ground, searching for markers left by the missing Owain.Although there was a bit of sanguine trapped along the edges of the stairs that led to the front door, it was old, probably having been deposited about a week before.“Your son disappeared today, is that correct?”
“Yes.The last time I saw him was when I brought him breakfast.He still refused to see reason, so I left to visit a mage I hoped would help.”
I followed her down a flight of stairs until we were in what I assumed used to be the domain of Georgian and Victorian servants, a space with a low stone ceiling and old gaslight fixtures side by side with more modern illumination.To the left a bank of grimy windows opened onto the service area just below street level, while on the right were three doors.
But it was the floor that held my interest.Once again, I saw nothing there but old sanguine.
“This was his room,” Jerry said, opening a door and gesturing for me to go in.
I had been expecting something resembling a cell, given my suspicions Jerry was up to shenanigans, so to speak, but the room I stepped into was quite comfortable.Cozy, even, with an antique fireplace, a big leather recliner, a TV on the wall, and a large bed.A door led off to a lovely bathroom, while a floor-to-ceiling window looked out on an abandoned garden.
The floor was carpeted in sanguine, as was the bottom of the window frame.
“He left by the window,” I said, examining it closer.It—matching the age of the house—was of an old Georgian style and, while appearing shut, wasn’t locked.I gave it a little push, and the window swung on a central pivot, allowing a blast of cold air into the room.I ignored the icy weather and peered out through the window to the frozen ground below.We’d had a light dusting of snow a week or so before, but it had melted away during the daylight hours, leaving the ground frosty and hard.
