Chapter 1 #2
She crossed her legs and continued to gaze at him. His tense expression, obvious despite the cracked eggshell paint, indicated that he was enjoying the experience far less than she was.
A high-pitched scream sounded from somewhere in the house, too far away for Mallory to discern whether it was born of true fear or merely a playful shriek.
Perhaps it was nothing more than another attempt to throw her off-balance.
She pursed her lips and checked her watch again, then smoothed down her skirt, stood up and started walking towards the front door.
‘What are you doing?’ It was Eric, the thrall, who’d appeared out of nowhere.
Mallory turned her head and glanced at him. ‘I’m leaving.’
‘But Lord Chester hasn’t seen you yet.’
She waved an airy hand. ‘Unfortunately I can’t wait here all night. I have other appointments to keep. If he’d like to reschedule, he knows how to reach me.’ She reached for the door.
Eric began to splutter. ‘But … but … but…’
A mellifluous voice interrupted. ‘But I can see you now, Ms Nash.’
Mallory paused and squinted. Towards the end of the hallway was a tall dark figure.
She couldn’t make out his features but there was no doubt that this was Chester Longchamps.
Excellent: her display of brash confidence had paid off.
She didn’t say anything; the ball was in his court now.
He understood the game as well as she did.
‘I apologise for keeping you waiting,’ he went on.
Mallory couldn’t tell if the loud snort came from the Cursed Portrait or Eric, but she was betting on the former. It didn’t matter. The vampire had acknowledged his tardiness and apologised and now she could be gracious.
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘Would you like to discuss your business here?’
‘No, we’ll retire to my drawing room. Please, come with me.’ He melted into the shadows beyond the hallway leaving Mallory little choice but to follow.
‘You’re going to die,’ the Cursed Portrait hissed again as she passed it.
‘Not today,’ she murmured in response. And not by vamp. Chester Longchamps had just proved that he needed her far more than she needed him.
Chester’s drawing room wasn’t any cheerier than his hallway.
Mallory was unsure what design aesthetic he was aiming for, but there was certainly an eclectic array of furniture.
The room contained everything from a Jacobean sideboard to a 1920s’ art-deco mirror to a Brutalist coffee table that she was sure she’d seen only the previous month in a glossy magazine featuring the home of a premier league footballer and his glamorous wife.
She couldn’t stop herself checking to see whether Chester’s reflection appeared in the mirror. He caught her looking and smiled. ‘Look,’ he said and waved at it. ‘No hands!’
Mallory found she was smiling back at him. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.’
His response was genial. ‘I understand such curiosity. I can offer you a canapé – which most definitely will not contain garlic. You will find that all the windows in this property have been boarded up for the past three centuries. And,’ he added, with only a hint of smarminess, ‘I do sleep in a coffin.’
She blinked.
‘It provides a more restful sleep,’ Chester explained.
‘Good to know,’ she murmured.
She looked him over. For a vampire of his age, he was remarkably well-preserved.
His eyes didn’t contain much warmth but there was little evidence of the sunken skin she’d noticed on other aged vamps.
His pallor told of centuries of avoiding the sun, but he’d been canny with make-up – either that, or he had a sunbed hidden away somewhere.
Could vampires use sunbeds? She pondered the question. She genuinely had no idea.
Sunbed or not, Chester Longchamps was clearly someone who cared a great deal about his appearance and was keen to avoid looking like death in the way that some of his kin enjoyed. His rail-thin body was clad in a light-blue jersey fabric as if he were relaxing after a long run.
The notion that he was attempting to appear casual to put her at ease dissipated quickly when a young woman – another thrall – came into the room with a small dagger in her hand.
She sliced open her wrist with practised ease and raised it to Chester’s mouth.
He drank greedily, slurping her blood while maintaining eye contact with Mallory.
When he was done, he licked the thrall’s skin so that his saliva would heal her wound.
It was considered passé for vampires to use their fangs to pierce skin, probably because it suggested a lack of consent on the thrall’s part.
Nevertheless, the act made Mallory shiver.
Despite her many encounters with vampires, she’d not witnessed any of them feed.
It was an intimate deed and watching it made her feel like an unwelcome intruder.
‘I am not long awake,’ Chester said by way of explanation. ‘I find I require considerable refreshment before I can attack the night.’ He nodded at the thrall, dismissing her.
Mallory suddenly had the thought that the act hadn’t been intended to throw her off-balance but to indicate that he had vulnerabilities and needs. Regardless of the initial lack of welcome, Chester Longchamps didn’t want her to feel intimidated. That was … interesting.
He dabbed at his mouth with a light-blue handkerchief that perfectly matched his athleisure attire then beckoned Mallory to a nearby chair. Good: he was prepared to get down to business quickly. She might still make her next appointment in time.
‘You are a squib, Ms Nash,’ he said. It wasn’t a question. ‘When I first heard of your services, I admit I was sceptical. However, you come highly recommended.’
Mallory certainly hoped so; she’d worked hard to develop her reputation as somebody who got stuff done.
‘What is your success rate?’
‘Near perfect,’ she answered without missing a beat.
‘The last time I didn’t manage to fulfil a client’s request was more than three years ago.
’ And that had been because the client in question – a troll called Bertie – had provided false information.
It could be argued that the failure had not been hers.
Chester stroked his chin. ‘And you deal solely in secrets and favours? You do not require monetary compensation for your efforts? Because frankly that would be far easier and, I suspect, far less costly in the long run.’
‘My terms were made clear to you before my arrival.’ She kept her tone pleasant.
He tilted his head and examined her. ‘You present yourself as flowers and sunshine, Ms Nash, but in truth you possess a core of steel.’
‘Titanium,’ Mallory told him. Coated in radioactive nuclear waste. She didn’t add that last part; it would have been overkill.
The vampire barked a cold laugh. ‘Yes. Ha! Titanium indeed. Very well.’ He leaned forward. ‘I can count on your discretion?’
‘Absolutely. Whether we proceed with an arrangement or otherwise, I will reveal nothing about this meeting.’
‘Strangely, I believe you. Very well, then.’ Chester paused for a moment before continuing. ‘What I am seeking is an object. I would like to get my hands on … the Clouded Map!’ he finished with a dramatic flourish.
There was no accompanying drumroll although Mallory sensed that he expected one. If she’d known what the Clouded Map was she might have agreed, but alas she’d never heard of it. She knew better than to say that aloud, however. ‘I see,’ she said, keeping her expression studiously blank.
Oblivious to her ignorance, Chester went on. ‘I appreciate it is a mammoth task. If it helps, I do not wish to retain the Clouded Map permanently. I would simply like to borrow it for a short period – twelve months at the most. Then I will happily return it to the Witches’ Council.’
Well, at least now she knew who owned the map. Now the vampire’s reasons for approaching her made sense: the witches didn’t lend anything without good reason and considerable compensation, and they wouldn’t strike a deal with a vampire under any normal circumstances.
‘Why do you need it?’ she asked.
‘I am not at liberty to say.’ Chester responded smoothly.
Mallory shrugged. ‘I don’t require specifics, but if I am to approach the Witches’ Council on your behalf I need to know if your temporary possession will help you harm another sentient being in any way. And I am certainly not willing to participate, even indirectly, in any criminal activity.’
‘I can assure you,’ he said with a stiffness that suggested he was affronted by her suggestion, ‘that there is nothing criminal or underhand about this venture.’
He hadn’t answered her so she pressed the question. ‘Will you use it to harm another sentient being?’
His eyes shifted. Oh dear.
Despite her earlier statement about criminality, potential violence wasn’t necessarily a deal breaker for Mallory – this was Coldstream after all – but she wanted to know what she was getting into so she could make an informed decision.
There was a short silence before he replied, ‘Not without provocation.’
She sighed; he was being deliberately obscure. ‘I’ll need you to elaborate on that.’
‘Titanium,’ he murmured. ‘Very well. Before we proceed, I require your spoken vow that you will not repeat anything I tell you to anyone else.’
‘I’ve already told you I will not reveal what is discussed here to anyone else and, as we’ve already established, I am a squib. I do not suffer the same consequences for breaking my word as a Preternatural does.’
Chester nodded. ‘I’m aware that is the case, but I would still like your word. In the unlikely event that you break your vow, there will still be consequences.’ His cold eyes gleamed and for a second Mallory had a glimpse of the predator lurking beneath his artificially enhanced skin.
‘Consequences that you will carry out personally?’ she enquired lightly, pretending that her heart rate hadn’t suddenly ratcheted up.
His only answer was to curl the corners of his thin mouth into a half-smile.
Despite her reputation as a trustworthy broker of secrets and favours, Mallory was often presented with similar promises of violence; it was par for the course in her line of work and she wasn’t offended.
She certainly had no doubt that Chester Longchamps would carry out his threat if she talked.
She’d probably be disappointed if he didn’t.
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘You have my spoken vow that I will reveal nothing of what is discussed within these four walls to any soul.’
Chester leaned back and relaxed slightly. ‘Thank you.’ He drew in a quick breath. ‘I require the Clouded Map to locate a creature who has been attacking vampires. This creature has caused several deaths.’
‘Vampire deaths?’
‘We are not truly immortal, Ms Nash. Nobody is.’
Mallory knew that, but she was still surprised because killing vampires wasn’t an easy task. Yes, it happened from time to time but it was rare. ‘You want to kill this creature?’
‘I want to prevent any further deaths among my kind. If killing the culprit is the only way to achieve that, then that is what will happen. If an alternative solution presents itself, then that will be acceptable.’
Mallory eyed him. She could be mistaken but she was certain she saw a glimmer of fear in the old vamp.
‘Ms Nash,’ he said quietly. ‘Mallory. We are desperate.’
Every client presented a gamble in some way but Mallory suspected that everything Chester Longchamps had told her was the truth despite the aggression lurking beneath his calm facade.
The fact that he’d now switched pronouns and was referring to all vampires rather than himself sealed the deal as far as she was concerned. ‘Okay,’ she said.
His eyebrows shot up. ‘That’s it? You will procure the Clouded Map for us?’
She smiled slightly. ‘I didn’t say that.
What I will do is find out whether I can achieve what you are asking and what it will require from me.
Then I will present you with my terms.’ She thought about it.
‘Twenty-four hours should be long enough for me to gather enough information to determine what is and isn’t possible. ’
Before Chester could express any gratitude, she added, ‘I expect my fee will be high.’
He didn’t flinch. ‘Whatever it is, we are prepared to pay it.’
If that were true, Mallory could reap rewards from this venture for many moons to come but she knew better than to count her chickens. A lot could happen between now and the blood drying on a contract between them. However, she’d maintain her customary attitude to life and remain optimistic.