"I trust you," she said, "but if you think I'm running away, you're deluding yourself. I'm staying to fight."
"What are you talking about?" I frowned.
"I'll help you find and kill the vampaneze."
I stared at her, astonished by the simple way she'd put it, as though we were in search of a lost puppy. "Debbie!" I gasped. "Haven't you been listening? These are creatures that can move at super-fast speeds and flick you into the middle of next week with a snap of a finger. What can you — an ordinary human — hope to accomplish?"
"I can explore the tunnels with you," she said, "provide an extra pair of legs, eyes, ears. With me we can split into pairs and cover twice the ground."
"You couldn't keep up." I protested. "We move too fast."
"Through dark tunnels, with the threat of the vampaneze ever present?" She smiled. "I doubt it."
"OK," I agreed, "you could probably match us for pace, but not endurance. We go all day, hour after hour, without pause. You'd tire and fall behind."
"Steve keeps up," she noted.
"Steve's trained himself to track them. Besides," I added, "Steve doesn't have to report to school every day."
"Neither do I," she said. "I'm on compassionate leave. They don't expect me back' until the start of next week at the earliest."
"Debbie … you … it's …" I sputtered, then turned appealingly to Steve. "Tell her she's out of her mind," I pleaded.
"Actually, I think it's a good idea," he said.
"What?' I roared.
"We could do with another pair of legs down there. If she has the guts for it, I say we give her a go."
"And if we run into the vampaneze?" I challenged him. "Do you see Debbie going face to face with Hooky or his pals?"
"I do, as a matter of fact," he smiled. "From what I've seen, she's got a spine of steel."
"Thank you," Debbie said.
"Don't mention it," he laughed, then grew serious. "I can kit her out with an arrow gun. In a scrape we might be glad of an extra body. At least she'd give the vampaneze another target to worry about."
"I won't stand for it," I growled. "Harkat — tell them."
The Little Persons green eyes were thoughtful. "Tell them what, Darren?"
"That it's madness! Lunacy! Stupidity!"
"Is it?" he asked quietly. "If Debbie was any other person, would you be so … quick to turn down her offer? The odds are against us. We need allies if we are to triumph."
"But—" I began.
"You got her into this," Harkat interrupted. "I told you not to. You ignored me. You can't control people once … you involve them. She knows the danger and she … accepts it. What excuse have you to reject her offer … other than you're fond of her and … don't want to see her harmed?"
Put like that, there was nothing I could say. "Very well," I sighed. "I don't like this, but if you want to pitch in, I guess we have to let you."
"He's so gallant, isn't he?" Steve observed.
"He certainly knows how to make a girl feel welcome," Debbie grinned, then dropped her coat and leant forward. "Now," she said, "let's quit with the time-wasting and get down to business. I want to know everything there is to know about these monsters. What do they look like? Describe their smell. What sort of tracks do they leave? Where do—"
"Quiet!" I snapped, cutting her short.
She stared at me, offended. "What did I—"
"Hush," I said, quieter this time, laying a finger to my lips. I advanced to the door and pressed my ear against it.
"Trouble?" Harkat asked, stepping up beside me.
"I heard soft footsteps in the hallway a minute ago — but no door has opened."
We retreated, communicating with our eyes. Harkat found his axe, then went to check on the window.
"What's happening?" Debbie asked. I could hear the fast, hard beat of her heart.
"Maybe nothing — maybe an attack."
"Vampaneze?" Steve asked grimly.
"I don't know. It could just be an inquisitive maid. But somebody's out there. Maybe they've been eavesdropping, maybe they haven't. Best not to take chances."
Steve swung his arrow gun around and slid an arrow into it.
"Anyone outside?" I asked Harkat.
"No. I think the way's clear if we have to make a … break for it."
I drew my sword and tested the blade while considering our next move. If we left now, it would be safer — especially for Debbie — but once you start running, it's hard to stop.
"Up for a scrap?" I asked Steve.
He let out an uneven breath. "I've never fought a vampaneze on its feet," he said. "I've always struck by day, while they were sleeping. I don't know how much use I'd be."
"Harkat?" I asked.
"I think you and I should go see … what's going on," he said. "Steve and Debbie can wait by the window. If they hear sounds of fighting, they … should leave."
"How?" I asked. "There's no fire escape and they can't scale walls."
"No problem," Steve said. Reaching inside his jacket, he unwrapped a thin rope from around his waist. "I always come prepared," he winked.
"Will that hold two of you?" Harkat asked.
Steve nodded and tied one end of the rope to a radiator. Going to the window, he swung it open and threw the other end of the rope down. "Over here," he said to Debbie, and she went to him without objecting. He got her to climb on to the window sill and back out over it, holding on to the rope, so she was ready to descend in a hurry. "You two do what you have to," Steve said, covering the door with his arrow gun. "We'll get out if things look bad."
I checked with Harkat, then tiptoed to the door and took hold of the handle. "I'll go first," I said, "and drop low. You come straight after me. If you see anyone who looks like they don't belong — scalp them. We'll stop to ask for their credentials later."
I opened the door and dived into the hall, not bothering with a count. Harkat stepped out after me, arrow gun raised. Nobody to my left. I spun right — no one there either. I paused, ears cocked.
Long, tense moments passed. We didn't move. The silence gnawed at our nerves but we ignored it and concentrated — when you're fighting vampaneze, a second of distraction is all they need.
Then someone coughed overhead.
Dropping to the floor, I twisted on to my back and brought my sword upright, while Harkat swung his arrow gun up.
The figure clinging to the ceiling dropped before Harkat could fire, knocked him across the hallway, then kicked my sword from my hands. I scrambled after it, then stopped at a familiar chuckle. "Game, set and match to me, I think."
Turning, I was greeted with the sight of a chunky man dressed in purple animal skins, with bare feet and dyed green hair. It was my fellow Vampire Prince — Vancha March!
"Vancha!" I gasped, as he grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and helped me to my feet. Harkat had risen by himself and was rubbing the back of his head, where Vancha had struck him.
"Darren," Vancha said. "Harkat." He wagged a finger at us. "You should always check the shadows overhead when scanning for danger. If I'd meant to harm you, the two of you would be dead now."
"When did you get back?" I cried excitedly. "Why did you sneak up on us? Where's Mr Crepsley?"
"Larten's on the roof. We got back about fifteen minutes ago. We heard unfamiliar voices in the room, which is why we moved cautiously. Who's in there with you?"
"Come in and I'll introduce you," I grinned, then led him into the room. I told Steve and Debbie that we were safe, and went to the window to call down a wary, wind-bitten, very welcome Mr Crepsley.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MR CREPSLEY was every bit as suspicious of Steve as Steve had predicted. Even after I'd told him about the attack and Steve saving my life, he regarded the human with ill-concealed contempt and remained at a distance. "Blood does not change," he growled. "When I tested Steve Leonard's blood, it was the taste of pure evil. Time cannot have diluted that."
"I'm not
evil," Steve growled in return. "You're the cruel one, making horrible, unfounded accusations. Do you realize how low an opinion I had of myself after you'd dismissed me as a monster? Your ugly rejection almost drove me to evil!"
"It would not, I think, have been a lengthy drive," Mr Crepsley said smoothly.
"You could have been wrong, Larten," Vancha said. The Prince was lying on the couch, feet propped on the TV set, which he'd dragged closer. His skin wasn't as red as it had been when I last saw him (Vancha was convinced he could train himself to survive sunlight, and often strolled about by day for an hour or so, allowing himself to be badly burnt, building up his body's defences). I guessed he must have spent the past few months walled-up inside Vampire Mountain.
"I was not wrong," Mr Crepsley insisted. "I know the taste of evil."
"I wouldn't bet on that," Vancha said, scratching an armpit. A bug fell out and landed on the floor. He guided it away with his right foot. "Blood's not as easy to divine as certain vampires think. I've found traces of 'evil' blood in several people over the decades, and kept tabs on them. Three went bad, so I killed them. The others led normal lives."
"Not all who are born evil commit evil," Mr Crepsley said, "but I do not believe in taking chances. I cannot trust him."
"That's stupid," I snapped. "You have to judge people by what they do, not by what you believe they might do. Steve's my friend. I'll vouch for him."
"Me too," Harkat said. "I was cautious at first, but I'm confident now that … he's on our side. It's not just Darren he saved — he also warned him … to ring Debbie and tell her to get out. She'd be dead otherwise."
Mr Crepsley shook his head stubbornly. "I say we should test his blood again. Vancha can do it. He will see that I am telling the truth."
"There's no point," Vancha said. "If you say there are traces of evil in his blood, I'm sure there are. But people can overcome their natural defects. I know nothing of this man, but I know Darren and Harkat, and I place more faith in their judgement than in the quality of Steve's blood."
Mr Crepsley muttered something under his breath, but he knew he was outnumbered. "Very well," he said mechanically. "I will speak no more of it. But I will keep a very close watch on you," he warned Steve.
"Watch away," Steve sniffed in reply.
To clear the air, I asked Vancha why he'd been absent so long. He said he'd reported to Mika Ver Leth and Paris Skyle and told them about the Vampaneze Lord. He would have left immediately, but he saw how close to death Paris was, and decided to see out the Prince's last few months beside him.
"He died well," Vancha said. "When he knew he was no longer able to play his part, he slipped away in secret. We found his body a few nights later, locked in a death embrace with a bear."
"That's horrible!" Debbie gasped, and everybody in the room smiled at her typical human reaction.
"Trust me," I told her, "there's no worse way for a vampire to die than in a bed, peacefully. Paris had more than eight hundred years under his belt. I doubt he left this world with any complaints."
"Still …" she said, troubled.
"That's the vampire way," Vancha said, leaning across to give her hand a comforting squeeze. "I'll take you aside some night and explain it to you," he added, leaving his hand on hers a few seconds longer than necessary.
If Mr Crepsley was going to keep a close eye on Steve, I was going to keep an even closer one on Vancha! I could see that he fancied Debbie. I didn't think shed be attracted to the ill-mannered, mud-stained, smelly Prince — but I wouldn't leave him alone with her to find out!
"Any news of the Vampaneze Lord or Gannen Harst?" I asked, to distract him.
"No," he said. "I told the Generals that Gannen was my brother and gave them a full description of him, but none had seen him recently."
"What of events here?" Mr Crepsley asked. "Has anybody been murdered, apart from Miss Hemlock's neighbours?"
"Please," Debbie smiled. "Call me Debbie."
"If he won't, I certainly will," Vancha grinned and leant across to pat her hand again. I felt like saying something rude, but constrained myself. Vancha saw me puffing up and winked suggestively.
We told Mr Crepsley and Vancha how quiet things had been before 'Hooky' attacked me in the alley. "I don't like the sound of this Hooky," Vancha grumbled. "I've never heard of a hook-handed vampaneze before. By tradition, a vampaneze would rather do without a lost leg or arm than replace it with an artificial limb. It's strange."
"What is stranger is that he has not attacked since," Mr Crepsley said. "If this vampaneze is in league with those who sent Darrens particulars to Mahler's, he knows the address of this hotel — so why not attack him here?"
"You think there might be two bands of vampaneze at work?" Vancha asked.
"Possibly. Or it could be that the vampaneze are responsible for the murders, while another — perhaps Desmond Tiny — set up Darren at school. Mr Tiny could also have arranged for the hook-handed vampaneze to cross paths with Darren."
"But how did Hooky recognize Darren?" Harkat asked.
"Maybe by the scent of Darren's blood," Mr Crepsley said.
"I don't like this," Vancha grumbled. "Too many 'ifs' and 'buts'. Too twisted by far. I say we get out and leave the humans to fend for themselves."
"I am inclined to agree with you," Mr Crepsley said. "It pains me to say it, but perhaps our purposes would be best served by retreat."
"Then retreat and be damned!" Debbie snapped, and we all stared at her as she got to her feet and faced Mr Crepsley and Vancha, hands bunched into fists, eyes on fire. "What sort of monsters are you?" she snarled. "You talk of people as if we're inferior beings who don't matter!"
"May I remind you, madam," Mr Crepsley replied stiffly, "that we came here to fight the vampaneze and protect you and your kind?"
"Should we be grateful?" she sneered. "You did what anyone with even a trace of humanity would have done. And before you come back with that 'We aren't human' crud, you don't have to be human to be humane!"
"She's a fiery wench, isn't she?" Vancha remarked to me in a stage-whisper. "I could easily fall in love with a woman like this."
"Fall somewhere else," I responded quickly.
Debbie paid no attention to our brief bit of interplay. Her eyes were fixed on Mr Crepsley, who was gazing coolly back at her. "Would you ask us to stay and sacrifice our lives?" he said quietly.
"I'm asking nothing," she retorted. "But if you leave and the killing continues, will you be able to live with yourselves? Can you turn a deaf ear to the cries of those who'll die?"
Mr Crepsley maintained eye contact with Debbie a few beats more, then averted his gaze and muttered softly, "No." Debbie sat, satisfied. "But we cannot chase shadows indefinitely," Mr Crepsley said. "Darren, Vancha and I are on a mission, which has been deferred too long already. We must think about moving on."
He faced Vancha. "I suggest we remain one more week, until the end of next weekend. We will do all in our power to engage the vampaneze, but if they continue to evade us, we should concede defeat and withdraw."
Vancha nodded slowly. "I'd rather get out now, but that's acceptable. Darren?"
"A week," I agreed, then caught Debbie's eye and shrugged. "It's the best we can do," I whispered.
"I can do more," Harkat said. "I am not tied to the mission as you … three are. I will stay beyond the deadline, if matters … are not resolved by then."
"Me too," Steve said. "I wont quit until the end."
"Thank you," Debbie said softly. "Thank you all." Then she grinned weakly at me and said, "All for one and one for all?"
I grinned back. "All for one and one for all," I agreed, and then everyone in the room repeated it, unbidden, one at a time — although Mr Crepsley did glance at Steve and grunt ironically when it was his turn to make the vow!
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
IT WAS almost dawn before we got to bed (Debbie dismissed her police guard earlier in the night). Everyone crammed into the two hotel rooms
. Harkat, Vancha and I slept on the floor, Mr Crepsley in his bed, Steve on the couch, and Debbie in the bed in the other room. Vancha had offered to share Debbie's bed if she wanted someone to keep her warm.
"Thanks," she'd said coyly, "but I'd rather sleep with an orangutan."
"She likes me!" Vancha declared as she left. "They always play hard to get when they like me!"
At dusk, Mr Crepsley and I checked out of the hotel. Now that Vancha, Steve and Debbie had joined us, we needed to find somewhere quieter. Steve's almost deserted apartment block was ideal. We took over the two apartments next to his and moved straight in. A quick spot of tidying-up and the rooms were ready to inhabit. They weren't comfortable — they were cold and damp — but they'd suffice.
Then it was time to go vampaneze hunting.
We paired off into three teams. I wanted to go with Debbie, but Mr Crepsley said it would be better if she accompanied one of the full-vampires. Vancha immediately offered to be her partner, but I put a quick stop to that idea. In the end we agreed that Debbie would go with Mr Crepsley, Steve with Vancha, and Harkat with me.
Along with our weapons, each of us carried a mobile phone. Vancha didn't like phones — a tom-tom drum was the closest he'd got to modern telecommunications — but we convinced him that it made sense — this way, if one of us found the vampaneze, we'd be able to summon the others swiftly.
Disregarding the tunnels we'd already examined, and those that were used regularly by humans, we divided up the city's underground terrain into three sectors, assigned one per team, and descended into darkness.
A long, disappointing night lay ahead of us. Nobody found any trace of the vampaneze, although Vancha and Steve discovered a human corpse that had been stashed away by the blood-suckers many weeks earlier. They made a note of where it was, and Steve said he'd inform the authorities later, when we'd finished searching, so the body could be claimed and buried.
Debbie looked like a ghost when we met at Steve's apartment the following morning. Her hair was wet and scraggly, her clothes torn, her cheeks scratched, her hands cut by sharp stones and old pipes. While I cleaned out her cuts and bandaged her hands, she stared ahead at the wall, dark rims around her eyes.