Page 10 of Touch in the Night

It was an online article fromThe York Press.

The Undying Baron Moves to Town.

Progressive Pragmatism or a Real and Present Danger?

Jesse scrolled to the pictures of Magnusson, looking impeccable at a press conference. His blue-black eyes gazed out of the picture, cool and measured. He scrolled on to a picture of Oswald House, Magnusson’s ultra-modern mansion, all glass and chrome. The article claimed it was built on the very spot of an Elizabethan hall that had belonged to the baron’s family over three hundred years previously.

“I think you’re a bit late trying to go viral with the haemophile thing,” Jesse said, handing the tablet back. “Nothing’s ever gonna rack up the hits of that phone footage from Blood Winter.”

“That footage went wide ’cause it’s the onlytruthfulvideo of these things,” Trixy said, her eyes dancing. “People aren’t interested in the interviews and PR projects. They want to know what haemos are really like.”

“Do they?” Jesse asked disbelievingly.

“Hell yeah. This guy moving here is a fucking gift. Candid footage of the Undying Baron, unguarded and unfiltered, would be prime content—bigger than any celebrity streaming their gym session or whatever.Andit’ll serve a purpose.”

“What purpose? Ad revenue for your YouTube channel?”

She tilted her chin. “A definitive answer to the question everyone is asking.”

“What question?”

“Is he dangerous?”

“Trix…”

“Everyone’s talking about it,” Trixy said, indicating the article. “But no one’s trying to find an answer.”

“You don’t think he’s allowed a private life like the rest of us?”

“No one has private lives anymore,” she retorted with an impatient gesture. “Everything’s online—medical records, home movies, banking, everything.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Trixy huffed through her nose. “You can keep yourself off the grid ’cause you’re a raging nerd. But if anyone needs scrutiny, it’s bloody vampires.”

Jesse opened his mouth to protest but then looked away, fatigue stealing the energy to argue.

“A thousand quid, Jesse. Half now, half when the job’s done.”

“What, exactly,isthe job?”

She enlarged the picture of the mansion. “I need you to get me inside.”

Jesse paused in the act of pouring more tequila. “Come again?”

She tapped her neon pink fingernail on the screen. “Get me into Oswald House. Day time.”

“Why?”

She grinned. “I’m gonna open his coffin.”

Jesse stared at her. “I’m sorry… It’s been a long day. It sounded like you were gonna try and get yourself killed?”

“If he’s really safe enough to be living outside a haemophile commune, then I shouldn’t be in any danger, right?”

“Theyalllock themselves away in the day, commune or not. And by the way, they don’t sleep in coffins.”

“Either haemophiles are dangerous or they’re not,” she said, taking the tablet back. “I intend to prove it one way or another.”

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