Watford Tales

Vampire Camp

Simon

It's a long drive.

After about an hour, Baz stirs and makes Fiona stop the car. He opens the door and pukes again, then he nestles against me and is back to sleep. I don't feel at all tired. I feel on high alert. I don't trust Fiona for one thing. I never have. And Nico - with his greasy hair and his seedy clothes, sitting there sucking on the gaps in his teeth - well he's kind of like the poster child for untrustworthy.

At last we get off the Motorway. We're on all these twisting little roads and the moon is setting in the west - huge and reddish. We stop at an all night cafe in a tiny sleepy town and Fiona buys bacon rolls and cardboard cups of coffee. Baz stirs and drinks the coffee but just shudders at the sight of the bacon roll. I eat his as well as mine.

While I'm still eating Nico pulls over and stops the car. Baz gets out and stretches, and I follow him. He seems better. Not drunk anymore. But pale. When did he hunt last? He went to the catacombs tonight but that seems ages ago. And then there was all the puking. Fuck. As if I don't have enough in my head. Now I have to worry about when was the last time my vampire boyfriend drank blood.

A cold wind is blowing and it smells of the sea. The dirt under our feet is sand scudded with snow and the grasses around us are blowing in the breeze, making a whispering slithery sound. The moon has set. It's very dark outside the circle of the Citroen's headlamps. I shiver, and Fiona looks over at me.

"Where's your coat, Chosen One?" I don't like the way she says it.

"Lost it," I snarl back at her. As surly as I can make it.

She nudges Nico, who is standing next to her. "Give him yours," she says. He raises an eyebrow at her, but doesn't argue. He spits on the ground and pulls a small black pistol from his pocket. He sticks it in his belt, then takes off his jacket and hands it to me. It's a black nylon affair. I put it on. It smells of old cigarettes and sweat and blood.

Fiona hands Baz a letter. He reads it silently, then nods once and slips it in the breast pocket of his jacket, under his cloak. "Make sure you give it to the leader," she says. "Gideon Petrokov."

"What else?" says Baz.

"See if you can get a reply. See if you can get him to agree to a parley."

"All right," says Baz.

"Keep your eyes and ears open," says Fiona. "Any other information you can get could be useful."

"All right," says Baz again.

"And Baz?"

"Yes?"

"Be careful."

He gets a funny look on his face. "Does Father know I'm doing this?" he asks her.

"Malcolm? No. Of course not. You know he'd never agree to it."

"Fine, then," says Baz and he turns and walks swiftly up the sandy road, into the dunes, with his cloak billowing around him, and me following behind.

********

Baz

The sandy track goes on for so long I wonder if we're in the right place. Simon is coming up behind me, but once we're out of sight of Nico and Fiona I stop and let him catch me up. He's breathing hard. He grabs my hand and holds it as we walk.

"All right?" he whispers, though there's no one around.

"Yeah," I say. "You?"

"Fine," he says. "But Baz?"