Her Vampyrrhic Heart (11 page)

Without really intending to tell her what he'd planned for that afternoon it had spilled from his lips anyway.

‘A monster hunt? Gosh! That sounds exciting.'

For a moment he thought she was being sarcastic, but she genuinely appeared thrilled. Of course, he immediately invited her along.
And why the hell
not?
he thought.
Nearly every other guy who's sixteen has a girlfriend – so why not
me?
When she'd stood chatting happily at the bus stop his heart had begun to beat louder and louder until it seemed he'd got a machine gun blazing away inside his ribcage. He thought she'd put her hands over her ears and cry out ‘What on earth is that noise? It's deafening.'

Of course, only he could hear his own heart. It was sheer excitement at being with this pretty girl that made it beat so thunderously.

Now, as they headed along the path towards the forest, she touched his arm to draw his attention to a view of Danby-Mask in the distance. A picturesque cluster of red-roofed houses by the river. Although, in truth, his attention never really strayed from her face. That pretty face, framed by blond hair and set with sparkling, blue eyes. Somewhere in the back of his mind it occurred to him that he'd planned to talk to Kit about those websites, which were devoted to a legendary creature that supposedly roamed this valley. Only that intention stayed in the back of his mind, because now he'd met Eden Taylor she'd become the focus of his attention. Everything else seemed strangely unimportant.
What's that perfume she's wearing? I need to find out its name. How would she react if I gave her some as a present? Grateful? Or wary? Maybe she'd think I was moving in on her too fast?

Kit paused. ‘Owen, show me where you found the pod.'

Eden said, ‘Owen told me about what he found. An automatic camera, isn't it?'

Kit nodded.

By now, the Monster Hunt, which had been a fun idea earlier, seemed excruciatingly childish so Owen tried to make light of it; he dreaded Eden thinking he was some kind of idiot. ‘Kit asked me to show him where I found the pod thing. If you ask me, it filmed a stag or a wild pony.'

‘Isn't there a local legend about a dragon?' Eden seemed genuinely interested, rather than mocking.

Kit wore a stony expression. ‘There have been sightings of an unidentified animal for centuries. The first one was in the Domesday Book, compiled after the invasion of Britain by the Normans in 1066. A water mill got smashed. The king sent knights to find the dragon. If you read the medieval chronicles of—'

‘Just a myth,' Owen said quickly. ‘You know, a stupid story like Nessie and Bigfoot?'

‘There are eyewitness accounts.' Kit sounded annoyed. ‘Sworn testimonies.'

‘And your camera filmed it.' Eden smiled. ‘Will you let me see the film, Kit?'

To Kit's irritation Owen answered on his behalf, ‘Of course he will. But my mother said the dragon myth was used by locals to frighten their children.'

‘Charming.' Eden's tone hinted that she thought local parenting skills might be suspect to say the least.

Owen continued, ‘People use the story to discourage children from playing in the forest.'

‘Is it dangerous?'

‘There are ravines, caves, cliffs. The river's pretty wicked, too. If it rains, it can become a raging torrent, just like that.' He clicked his fingers.

‘Goodness.' She took a step closer to Owen as if the forest had begun to frighten her.

‘It'll be getting dark in an hour.' Kit sounded grumpy. ‘You best show us where you found the camera pod.'

Owen grinned. ‘Why? Are you scared of being here after dark, in case the monster rips your head off?' He couldn't resist letting out a monster roar. Realizing that didn't come across as at all mature, he laughed it off. ‘Just kidding. Come on. We're only a couple of hundred yards away from the spot.'

Eden, meanwhile, did her best to shine a little sunshine on their expedition. ‘I'm enjoying this. I've found two new friends. And I'm actually doing something interesting on a Saturday afternoon instead of homework or chores. So, yes, this is fun. Lots of fun.'

She smiled brightly. He smiled back. Kit Bolter, however, had decided to be sullen.
The killjoy.

Owen explained how he'd walked along the river bank, looking for his brother. Eden expressed a keen interest when he told her that Tom was a professional diver, and that he'd been hired to make an underwater survey of the river.

‘This is where I found the pod.' He pointed under a tree. For Eden's benefit he added, ‘It was a metal cylinder about this big.' He held his hands about eighteen inches apart. ‘The metal casing had been crushed. Look, you can still see the hole where it had been squashed into the ground.'

Kit pulled a camera out of his rucksack and began taking photographs of the hole, and of scuffs and gouges in the dirt where something looked to have been dragged. Eden appeared surprised that Kit took this seriously enough to photograph the area. Owen smiled and gave a little shake of his head as if to say,
It's OK, humour the kid
.

Kit noticed the gesture and reacted defensively. ‘I'm planning to study forensic science at university. This is a useful exercise. I'm assessing what would be normal in a forest – things like the state of tree bark, branches, undergrowth and the condition of the ground, then I look for anomalies.' He pointed at a tree. ‘See there? An area of bark the size of my hand has been scraped off. Where you're standing the soil has been disturbed as if large animals have been tearing at it with their paws or hooves.'

Eden politely examined the scuffed up earth.

Owen called across to Kit, ‘You might want to photograph these.'

‘What are they?'

‘Huge paw prints, about a foot across.'

Kit's eyes burned with excitement. ‘
Where?
'

‘All around here. Look.'

Then Kit noticed the expression on Owen's face. ‘Yeah, very funny, Owen. One day I'm going to split my sides laughing at one of your jokes, and you'll get blood all over your shoes.'

Kit resumed his investigation, going from tree to tree. Meanwhile, Owen and Eden casually mooched along the path; soon they stood on the river bank watching the water dash by.

‘When I was a boy,' Owen said, ‘I wanted to ride a canoe from here all the way down to Whitby.'

‘That's too adventurous for me,' she laughed. ‘I can get panicky in a swimming pool.' The force of the river sent droplets of water soaring into the air. Soon her nose and forehead twinkled with silvery specks. More glinted in her hair.

‘Instead of a canoe, we could ride down to Whitby on the bus?'

‘That sounds a lot safer than shooting the rapids.' Her eyes twinkled. ‘I've just been thinking it would be nice to spend more time together.'

Kit shouted, ‘Hey …'

‘By ourselves,' she added.

‘Hey,' Kit shouted from amongst some bushes. ‘I've found where the camera pod had been fixed to the tree. Something ripped the bolts right out of the trunk.'

Owen wasn't listening to Kit. No, he heard his heart again, pounding away. This time he was certain Eden would hear it.

‘How about tomorrow?' He spoke in what he hoped was a laid-back way, but was absolutely terrified she'd say ‘No'. ‘There's a bus at twelve. We could get something to eat down by the harbour.'

‘Yes … that sounds nice.'

His heart whooshed into overdrive. Those blue eyes of hers seemed to light up the whole forest … no … the whole world.

‘Hey, guys, did you hear me?' Kit's voice was getting lost in the forest, receding, becoming less important – that's what it seemed like to Owen Westonby. Because right at that special moment Owen stood there with the amazing Eden Taylor, and she'd just said ‘Yes' to a date. Kit tried shouting even louder to get himself noticed: ‘The camera pod was torn off its mounting. Something big came through here. Something huge!'

T
om Westonby peeled himself out of the diver's suit in a bathroom at the angler's club house. He'd finished the inspection dive at the jetty and had been able to report to the guy who'd hired him that the structure was basically sound. After showering, he changed his clothes and packed his aqualung, mask, rubber suit and assorted diving equipment into his van. The representative of the angler's club that owned the jetty paid him his fee in cash.

Tom waved his farewell as he drove away in the direction of Leppington where he'd arranged to meet up with June Valko. After her experience with the vampires last night, he knew that the time had come to tell her the whole story regarding the flood five years ago, and about the vampire-like creatures that haunted the wood, and the truth about Helsvir – this was the monster guardian of the Bekk family that had been stitched together from corpses by the Viking god Thor. If it hadn't been for the fact that June Valko had seen a vampire with her own eyes (and possibly her own father at that) climb down the chimney to stand there in the blazing fire, Tom knew he wouldn't have been able to convince her that he spoke the truth.

A sign up ahead read LEPPINGTON. He drove into the market town determined to explain to June as clearly as possible his mission in life –
and that mission is to find Nicola Bekk, and to bring her back home
. However, he needed to overcome two major obstacles. One: he didn't know where to find Nicola. Two: Nicola was a vampire.

T
om Westonby parked in the yard behind the Station Hotel in Leppington. When he stepped out of the van he shivered. A cold North-Easterly carried flakes of snow, but it was more than the icy breeze making him shiver. He realized that when he saw June Valko today they wouldn't just discuss the past. They'd plan what they were going to do in the future. The main part of that plan for June would be somehow finding and communicating with her father. Considering that the man had become an inhuman creature, a vampire, that was nigh on impossible.

Just as impossible as me being reunited with Nicola Bekk
, he thought grimly as he walked towards the hotel.

Leppington was bigger that Danby-Mask. Whereas his home village consisted of quaint cottages built from yellow stone, Leppington consisted mainly of red-brick buildings. The place had a tougher, industrial feel. Across the road stood the huge slaughterhouse. Next to that, the formidable railway station, while facing the railway station stood the equally imposing Station Hotel. Over a hundred years ago whoever had built this hotel clearly wanted to dominate the town. It was as if they were bluntly stating: ‘I'm staying here for ever, so get used to it.' The streets were busy with pedestrians, rushing to do their Christmas shopping before the snow really started to fall. In this part of England, a blizzard would lead to the moorland roads being closed, leaving travellers stranded.

Tom passed through the big entrance doors and headed across plush carpet towards the lounge bar. It was ten minutes to three; already daylight was fading. The main bar at the front of the hotel buzzed with people. However, the residents' lounge was deserted. Good; he could talk to June without anyone overhearing. After all, he had a shocking story to tell.

Tom headed for the counter with its long line of beer taps. Nobody appeared to be serving. He could use a large mugful of hot coffee right now. Even though he'd worn the dry suit for the dive, the sheer coldness of the River Lepping had seeped into his veins. He glanced up at a small TV screen fixed to the wall and saw his own image there as he stood at the counter. There must have been another screen showing the identical image elsewhere in the hotel, because a woman breezed through a door. She appeared to be in her thirties and had thick, wavy red hair tied back with a green ribbon.

‘Good afternoon,' she said cheerfully. ‘What can I get for you?'

He realized he was hungry, too. ‘Good afternoon. I'd like a large coffee, please.'

‘Milk or cream?'

‘No, thanks, just as it comes. Are you serving meals today?'

‘Right up until five o'clock. Bar menus are on the tables.'

‘Thanks.'

‘You'll have to excuse me if I'm slow at this.' She gazed at the elaborate coffee machine for a moment. ‘We've only just taken over this week.'

‘Has Electra sold the hotel?'

‘You know Electra Charnwood?'

‘I've met her a few times when I've had meals here.'

‘Electra's taken a year off to go travelling. So this is a baptism of fire for me and my husband. We've never run a hotel before.' She grinned back over her shoulder. ‘But don't let that put you off eating here. We haven't poisoned anyone yet.' She turned her attention back to the coffee machine's controls. ‘I think it's this one … wait … ah, yes, that's it, we have lift-off.' The machine began to gurgle.

‘I'm meeting one of your guests at three. I'll see if she wants to eat, too.'

‘A guest, you say? That must be Miss Valko. We only have one person staying with us at the moment.'

‘That's her. June Valko.'

‘She's beautiful. Such amazing blue eyes.'

‘Oh, we're not meeting on a date.' He realized the woman wasn't being nosy. In fact he found himself liking her. Being so reclusive meant that he didn't see many smiling faces. ‘She's interested in local history.' That seemed an understatement – of course, he wasn't going to come right out and tell the manageress of the Station Hotel that he and June Valko intended to track down June's inhuman father and Tom's vampire bride. The truth would lead to all kinds of complications.

The manageress chatted pleasantly. ‘See the poster on the wall?'

‘The movie poster?'

‘That's the one. My grandmother starred in the film. It was shot in Whitby during the Second World War.'