Dangerous, Diabolical

The drinks were not still warm.

Upon taking a cold sip, Leofstan visibly pouted, staring into the depths of the mug as if he’d lost the meaning of life. Pressing a finger against his cup, I summoned a slip of magic, sending a comforting wave. He looked dubious as the porcelain grew warm, having the cheek to sip it whilst pulling a face. When he didn’t keel over, he resumed cradling it.

I gave my coffee a similar treatment, letting it reach just under boiling. Briefcases were snapped open, phone calls were made. Papers became strewn over the table and across the floor.

Frankly, they seemed far too busy for me, and there was simply nothing for it but to head home. I tapped the table with my fingertips. Neither man looked at me. Quietly, mug in hand, I pushed my chair out. Leo had begun chanting something in the corner. Grahame was fixated on a picture set.

Trying not to hum, I sidestepped towards the door. A chair clattered across the room, my hair whipped across my face and the gust sent some papers sprawling. Leo, quick enough to make Grahame proud, sent a line of static crackling through the air to reinforce the lock.

Now and again someone appeared at the door to swap files but overall I started to daydream about being at work. At least that would be something to do. Eventually, I found my way to the window looking outside and down towards the tiny humans below. Now and again, I’d drop something out the window to see how fast it would fall, occasionally hitting one of them. Unfortunately, I rapidly ran out of small items and neither of the guys would leave me alone long enough to throw something bigger.

It took me only a few hours to notice one was always in the room. Luckily for them however, I’d backtracked on my plans to go anywhere as every muscle ached, and for one of the first times in my adult life, I felt as if I had a cold.

The continuous noise from all of the rooms was starting to make my brain vibrate with a ferocious headache. Lounging about in the oversized hand-offs Leo had loaned me, it turned out that being low on magic reserves was how I imagined the flu. Not for the first time, I groaned loudly.

“I’m ill!” I complained for the umpteenth time this hour. Not to mention incredibly bored. With Leo sitting so close my mind wouldn’t stop wondering, maybe just a little bite. He wouldn’t need both of his arms, surely?

The freshly vacuumed floors, bleached bathroom and lack of dust were becoming disconcerting. On cue, a huge sneeze exploded, leaving my nostrils burning.

“Bless you,” Leofstan called from the table, writing furiously. He was on his seventh cup of tea with no signs of slowing down. Groaning I slouched over the armchair glaring at him. His concentration didn’t abate for a second. When he eventually jumped out of his seat, announcing he’d return shortly, I almost resorted to begging.

Sighting the tv remote, I began to flick aimlessly through the channels. The offerings were almost as grim as the choices at the hospital. For the fourth time, I cycled the ‘nine hundred and ninety-nine’ channels again, which shockingly, were not all there.

The carpet was beginning to become threadbare. There were only so many times one could circle a table.

“Will you sit down!” Grahame growled before returning to clicking through the vast wide web on a fancy new laptop he’d sourced from somewhere.

“I’m bored!” I complained.

“Watch TV.”

“I’ve been doing that for days,” I complained.

“Hours.” He corrected, not even looking up. “Put a film on or something.”

“So when you drink blood, have you ever been tempted to rip a chunk of flesh off?” His eyes flickered up for a brief second, before then returning to ignoring me.

“If you don’t kill the people you eat does that mean you drink their blood day after day? Doesn’t that get boring?” He clicked the mouse repetitively.

“Do you have a favourite blood type?” Grahame’s eye twitched.

“If they’re wearing a turtle-neck do you ever get lazy and just bite straight through it?”

“Enough!” He pinched his forehead. “Can you not see how dire this situation is, I need to concentrate!”

“Have you ever eaten a dog?”

He slammed the laptop closed, teeth bared. “Be silent!” The air became thick with magic and the weight of his words blasted over me.

I ignored his attempts to glamour me. “What if you mixed something like a human and a ferret, would you call that a cocktail?”

With a hiss, he threw a mug at me, I sidestepped it, getting sprayed with the leftover water. His red eyes began to glow softly.

“You are insufferable!”

Voice a whine, “I’m bored!”, this was the most boring room I’d ever been in. I’d truly never witnessed time move as slowly as right now.

“What do you usually do when you’re bored?”

Drag someone into the forest and dismember them slowly. Visit a museum and see if they have anything new and shiny worth stealing. Go to work. Anything but sitting in a hotel room.

I flapped my hands in the air cluelessly.

He sighed. “Okay, five questions and then you promise me you’ll watch a film for at least 30 minutes. Quietly.”

“Only five?” That wasn’t a lot at all.

“Four.” He rasped.

“That’s not fair!”

Grahame looked at the watch on his wrist.

“Fine, fine!” There were so many things I wanted to know about vampires, but where to begin?

Oh, wait!

“Do you have any buried treasure?” Perfect question. For a moment, he looked flabbergasted.

“I’m not a pirate.”

“That isn’t an answer!” Besides he could have been a vampire pirate, there are weirder jobs out there.

He seemed to consider the question, pursing his lips. Finally, he sighed and crossed his arms.

“Yes.”

“HA!” I pointed a finger at him squealing in excitement. “I knew it!” He simply shook his head in response. What else had I always wanted to know about vampires?

“Plane or boat?”

He pulled a face at me. “You’ve spent the last hour asking everything to the grave and back about vampires and now you’re asking everything but? Is that seriously your question?”

“Ye-ah.” I dragged the word out.

“Boat.”

I knew it! “You are a pirate!” I was jumping up and down at the news.

He curled his top lip at me. “I am not a bloody pirate.”

“That’s something a pirate would say.”

He shook his head at me, eyes glowing.

“Okay then, what pet would you rather own? A kangaroo or a parrot?”

“No one in their right mind would have a kangaroo as a pet.” His voice hitched an octave and he was starting to look a little red in the face.

Aha! “So you admit you’d own a parrot?”

He was still shaking his head. “That’s four questions.”

“You never answered my last one!”

“No Celandine, I would not own a parrot.”

Damn it, he’d crushed my pirate vampire dreams. I was going to nickname him Vampire Grahame, the crusher of imagination.

“Now tv on, 30 minutes of silence, yes?” He was already back to laptoping away, eyes fixated.

I suppose I had promised.

Turning the machine on and slinking down into the hotel chair pouting, I started the endless clicking of channels.

“Oh, Deborah… I love you…” Nope.

Click.

“Today on Kelly’s Farm, we visit the pigs…” Hmmm, a contender.

Click.

“Buy all of this for only seventy-nine ninety-nine…” No, thank you.

Click.

“This bejewelled 18 karat necklace…” That was a maybe. The camera angles weren’t flattering thought.

Click.

“We bring you breaking news. Several reports of grave robbing have come in from the local cemetery.” Cool! I made myself comfortable. “Furthermore we have had reports of the suspected deceased,” The anchor lady broke off to press her ear and look around the studio. “Sorry is this correct?” Someone waved her ahead off-screen. “Walking around?” She laughed nervously. “It’s a few days too early for Halloween guys.” That had rapidly grown boring, there had been way too much zombie talk lately, this was old news.

Click.

“Halt, go back!” Grahame ordered, jumping to his feet. As I was already three channels past the news I kept going forwards. Might as well cycle it all again. He, unfortunately, disagreed, snatching the remote out of my hand and backtracking.

Click. Click. Click.

“I repeat, we suggest that you do not approach any individual bearing resemblance to someone you know to have passed.” The lady was still squinting her face uncomfortably. “As we discover the source of this hoax we will bring you the breaking news.” She mouthed something to someone off-camera as the adverts kicked in.

Grahame was already on his phone next to me, Leo answering the other end. “The Valley cemetery.” The vamp barked down the phone. He clicked furiously on his laptop at the same time, wedging the phone into his shoulder. “No, no, looks like I’m closer, how soon can you get here?” He garbled something intelligible and hung up without so much as a goodbye.

“Stan will be here in seven minutes. Do not, under any circumstances, leave.”

“I’ll promise under one condition.”

“What?”

“Can I get a map of your buried treasure?”

The door slammed shut before I could blink.

As tempting as it was to wander about the hotel, I wasn’t sure seven minutes would be enough for a clean getaway. It was, however, enough time to drop the remote out of the window. It missed Grahame’s head by inches before shattering across the street below. The guy didn’t even pause.

Almost to the second of the seven minutes, Leo’s keycard beeped outside the door and allowed him entry, scanning the room his eyes immediately fixed on me. He was slightly out of breath, a sweaty sheen on his forehead. As opposed to the suit I had usually seen him in, he wore a casual pair of trainers, joggers and a plain t-shirt.