Burning the Stubble 1/3
Disclaimer
The characters and ideas contained herein are the property of Messrs
Parriot, Cohen and Sony/Tristar. No infringement of their rights is
intended. This work is copyright to Spike Shovelton as are any original
characters. Archive permission given to Mel for the fkfanfic site and to
Cousin Mary if she wants it. Comments are welcome at blot30@hotmail.com but
flames are most assuredly unwelcome.
There are spoilers here for Last Knight. I don't think there is any
explicit sex or bad language, but as usual it's PG-13, simply because some
of the themes are not aimed at children. In a change to my usual madness
this one is Tracy and Screed focused. The title is taken from a poem by Jon
Stallworthy and no infringement of his copyright is intended. My thanks go
to Cousin Mary for beta reading this, and making sure Screed sounded right.
Burning the Stubble 1/3
He looked down at the figure in the hospital bed, kept alive only by the
network of tubes and computers. She looked still beautiful in the white
bed. He was reminded of the old tales of sleeping princesses, as he lifted
one hand to touch the soft fair hair that lay tousled on the pillow.
He had admired her from the first, had desired her from the moment that
Vachon brought her down to the sewer. She had been so scared, but had
hidden her fear in babble about the sanitation and the stench in the sewer.
So beautiful, Vachon was a fool to have left her living, not to have claimed
her. His sewer had smelt of apricots and flowers for almost a week after
her visit.
His friend was dead now and he was alive. Vachon and Urs were both dead,
and Bourbon, killed by the Gestapo in 1944. He was alone again, for
carouches have few friends. He could not accept that so he had come here.
Hard to believe that his friends were all gone. He had woken up in a grave
by the sea and had dug his way out. Obviously the sickness had passed away
and he was alive, or as alive as he could be. So he had gone to the church
and found it empty and barred, and gone to the Raven and found that everyone
was packing and leaving. He had even asked Lacroix what had happened and
Lacroix had told him about Nicholas, and about having to deal with the
situation.
Then he had asked about Tracy and the old vampire had told him the truth.
Screed found that wholly unacceptable and so here he was. Trying to summon
the courage to act. He had listened to her parents, her mother wanting the
machines left on, and her father wanting them switched off. Even if he
brought her across, it was not clear whether she would be brain dead or
alive. If he brought her across and she was insane then he would have to
kill her.
He wondered why he was standing around watching her and he walked to the
bedside and brushed the hair away from her smooth white throat. Then he let
his fangs drop, as he could smell her blood. It took only a minute and then
he switched off the machines and arranged for her to be pronounced dead.
Screed watched as his new childe came around and fed her gently through
first hunger. She was so perfect in his arms, even in a cheap hospital gown
she looked beautiful. He wondered if Vachon would mind if he were to love
her? It would be very easy; she was a beautiful woman and a challenging
one. He didn't even need to persuade her, as her maker he had rights over
her, could do what he wanted, break her, beat her, rape her, even destroy
her and nothing, no law of man or vampire could stop him.
He shivered at that thought. No he would never do that to her. He had
never liked pain. As a gutter brat in London he had needed to fight off
abusers and paedophiles and hadn't always succeeded. Unlike Vachon and
Bourbon he had only ever gone for willing women, and there were enough of
those around. He looked down at the sleeping fledgling in his arms. No it
would be a cold day in hell before he hurt her. He would just wait and see
what happened. Perhaps she would fall in love with him.
"Yeah an' piggies can fly." He said out loud and her eyes fluttered open.
"Easy now fruit. Don't fret, Ol' Screed be 'ere."
"Screed?" The eyes were gold but turned blue. Tracy looked around, aware
that she was not in hospital. "You're dead. Am I dead?"
"Rumours of me death be much exaggerated like." Screed said and studied
her. "I woked up an' saw as ya'd been 'urt so I come to the 'ospital and
brung ya over."
"You did what?" Tracy sat up and then regretted it. "You brought me
across?" She looked at him and tried to put this together. "So I'm a
vampire, and a carouche?"
"Fraid so." He looked at her. "I fed yer on cows, so yer won't be stealing
me squeakers."
"Cow is good." Tracy said and took in a deep breath. She could do this,
could cope with this change in her life. Who was she kidding? This was not
what she had planned. "Thanks for bringing me across."
Screed looked at her, still probably in shock after what had happened. That
was understandable. He hadn't really expected her to declare her undying
love for him, had he? No he couldn't seriously expect that. "My pleasure,
fruit. Now we needs to leave Toronto."
"Why?" Tracy looked at him, surprised by how gentle his eyes were, for a
vampire. "Oh, I'm meant to be dead."
"Right, so we needs to be elsewhere." He looked at her. "Would yer like
ter see the Smoke?" She looked blank. "London I means."
Tracy saw the wistful look in his eyes. He clearly wanted her to go there,
and who was she to refuse? "Okay then." It wasn't as though she had any
better plans. She was still stunned that she wasn't dead and neither was
he.
"Good, then let's be off." Screed grinned at her. "Yer'll like London,
lots of nice things ter do.".
She did like London, and flying and learning to use her new skills. Being a
carouche made it easier in some ways to become accustomed to this form of
life. Interacting with mortals was not so difficult as the hunger was
muted. Screed had a house in one of the commuter suburbs of London, a
middle class semi-detached house with a postage stamp garden. Apparently
somewhere so normal was good cover. He introduced her to the neighbours and
the Neighbourhood watch as his cousin and they settled into suburban life.
Eight months into their stay she woke up one afternoon to find Screed
polishing his shoes with an expression of grim determination. "What is it?"
Tracy asked as she poured herself breakfast.
"We're going ter see some'un, yer needs some clothes." He said and Tracy
looked at him. "Then get packed for a weekend away."
"What is going on?" Tracy asked and the other carouche sighed. "I have
lots of clothes." The problem had been stopping him from buying her things.
Screed had been impossibly generous, as she had been able to take very
little with her. He had given her an account and an allowance. Now that
the fuss had died down she had gone back to the police. Anything high
profile was out of the question, but she was in uniform as a desk sergeant
at a small unremarkable police station. The police was very addictive, she
had wanted to be back there and had promised that at the first sign of
trouble they would move on. It was not very well paid, but Screed still
kept giving her things. Then again she had insisted on paying some of the
bills. She was still trying to persuade him not to buy her everything she
admired.
"Summat expensive." Screed said quickly. Tracy frowned. They tended to
avoid community places, as carouches were not always well tolerated. It had
been refreshingly normal in fact.
"Screed." Tracy said quickly and the carouche looked at her. "What is
going on?"
"Me maker arst us to see 'er. She wants a look at ya." He said quickly.
"Iffens she don't like ya then us could 'ave problems see."
"Right." Tracy looked at him. Screed was not given to worrying so this had
to be something serious. "She'll like me."
Screed nodded, trying not to worry too much. He just hoped she did. This
time he took her to the designer shops and Tracy found herself enjoying the
chance to buy the sort of clothes that were off limits on a police salary.
Once they had bought a ballgown, two smart suits and two casual outfits he
sent her to Rigby & Peller, who made bras for the Queen, and who ran the
most exclusive underwear shop in London. He told her to buy what she
wanted.
"Do appearances matter so much?" Tracy asked as they loaded their stuff
into the car.
"No I just wants her to know that I values yer enough to spend money.
Especially as she's giving a party for the top nobs in the community."
Screed said and looked at her. "I gotcha something." He held out a small
box and Tracy opened it and whistled as she looked at the expensive gold
seal ring. "Status matters see, I wants 'em ter know yer not just a
groupie."
"Oh Screed it's beautiful." Tracy looked down at the heavy ring. "I love
it." She walked over and kissed him on the cheek. Screed started at the
unexpected and pleasant embrace.
"Tracy." He said and she looked at him. "Iffen anyun touches ya then ya
gots ta tell me. Otherwise it 'fects me status, implies I can'ts protect me
property." He saw the fury on her face. "I know, but it's 'ow it works.
We be quite feudal. I wants ya word."
"You have my word." Tracy smiled. "Tell me about your maker. What is her
name?"
"Rachel." He said and smiled quickly. "She was the purtiest woman I ever
set me peepers on."
"How did you meet her?" Tracy was intrigued by this story. Screed had
never mentioned his maker.
"Long story." They climbed into the car and set off into the night.
Flashback, London 1586
Ey Screed, c'mere and cast yer peepers on that." Martins beckoned the other
sailor onto deck and over to the rail. "What d'yer think?"
"Blimey I could go fer that." Hawk indicated the woman standing by the
dockside. "How much yer think she charges?"
"Yer thinks she's fer sale?" Screed asked with interest.
"Course she is, else she wouldn't be dahn 'ere. All the whores come dahn
'ere, mind she's purtier than most." Martins smiled grimly.
Screed looked at the beautiful figure on the dockside, hair escaping from
the coiffure like black waves. He had not seen a woman for three months,
and that had been the captain's mother, had not had one in almost a year.
Something about this one said class, though. Seamen were not well paid, he
knew he would not be able to afford this one. He could always try one of
the cheap whorehouses, but there was no guarantee that they wouldn't roll
him, or give him a dose of the pox.
He was called away by the first mate calling them to order. Screed sighed,
he did not mind being at sea. He had grown up in an alley, son of a
diseased whore, and one of her customers. He had dragged himself up, and
done quite well as a pickpocket and thief, until he had been press-ganged.
At least he was fed with some regularity here, and it was okay, if you kept
your nose down and did as you were told. Discipline was harsh, but if he
had remained in London he'd probably have wound up doing the Tyburn jig
sooner or later so it didn't make much odds.
He turned to go and as he did so the woman on the dock looked over at him
and smiled, her full red lips curving as she did so. It was good to see
London again. He smiled, as he smelt the foetid air of the Thames and saw
the Tower rising out of the river.
When the men were given their leave, and the warning of what would happen if
they ran away, Screed went down to the rookeries of his childhood, to see
what had changed, and to get hold of some beer. As he walked down the
street he heard Hawk and Martin talking loudly by a pub. They were talking
to the beautiful prostitute.
"Your pardon, but I am not interested." The woman said clearly, her tone
educated and slightly accented.
"You are if we sez so, now come 'ere." Martin smiled viciously. He was
cruel and quite brutal. Screed knew that Martin abused some of the younger
cabin boys but it was best to say nothing.
"Yeah, I want a piece of her too." The men began to drag the woman into the
alley.
"Mates." Screed said, wondering why he was bothering to exert himself over
a whore. The woman struggled, clearly not wanting to go. "I don't see why
yer botherin' there's plenty of willing ones and she don't seem innerested."
"We wants this one." Martin said quickly. "Don't matter what she wants."
"No?" The woman smiled, and it was edged with cruelty.
"Lads, let's try the house round the corner, there's girls enough." Screed
wondered why he was making an issue of this.
"Yer mekking trouble?" Martin pulled out a knife and grinned savagely.
Screed sighed. He did not have many scruples, he would roll the nobs, take
their rings, steal most things from most people, but he did not approve of
forcing people, he had fought off enough people himself as a lad. He sighed
quickly as Martin moved towards him and they turned down the alley so nobody
could see.
He soon knocked Martin out and Hawk turned and ran. The woman smiled,
revealing long white teeth.
Screed moved towards her, shaking his head. "What happened?"
"The prey became the hunter." She responded and studied him. "On the one
hand I am grateful that you would attempt to defend me, on the other you
have stolen my dinner, and that annoys me." She looked at the unconscious
one. "Will you get in trouble for this?"
"Probably, it don't matter." Screed looked at her. "Yer need owt? Can I
walk yer 'ome? If yer hungry, there's a pie shop not so far away. I'll
stand yer dinner." He wouldn't be able to afford a woman if he did, but he
had been hungry enough to want to help her.
"How generous." The woman laughed. "Why did you defend me?" She moved
forwards, seeming to glide over the ground.
"I don't like forcing folk against their wish like." Screed said and the
woman nodded.
"You have potential, it would be wasted on this life. You deserve something
a little better than dying of pox or fever like the rest of the animals who
live here. If you serve me, then the rewards could be many." She shrugged
one shoulder. "If you don't then you are as good as dead, I am becoming
hungry." She smiled and Screed watched as her eyes changed colour. She
extended one hand and he moved forward.
She was so beautiful, even with teeth like a demon and glowing eyes. He
looked at her and extended his hand, not even thinking about being afraid.
She kissed him and he could smell her scent, and beneath it her cleanliness.
She smelled so wonderfully clean, and he did not dare to touch her, lest
he sully her. He flinched at the razor sharp points entering his skin.
End Flashback.
"So how long did you spend with her?" Tracy asked.
"Close on thirty year." Screed grinned. "She be carouche too, but she
sometimes 'unts. She liked the sport I reckon."
Tracy looked at the ring on her finger. "What does this mean?"
"Me seal." He explained and paused for a moment. "If Rachel gives us one
room, like. Don't argue about it. Fact, don't argue with her at all if ya
can 'elp it."
"Right." Tracy smiled. Screed was a good maker. This was the first time
he had asked anything of her. "Stop worrying, it'll be fine."
"I 'ope so." Screed studied her. She was beautiful his Tracy but so
stubborn and independent. He felt guilty that Vachon wasn't there, but a
part of him felt pleased that his friend was gone, because she was his now.
Then he felt guilty for feeling pleased. Screed shook his head. If he
didn't watch out he'd be brooding as much as Knight.
"So how old is she?" Tracy asked and he smiled.
"Old. She once said she knew Solomon." Screed smiled. "I never knowed if
that were right."
"No." Tracy said. "Anything else I need to know?"
"Don't contradict me in company." He said. They often had this problem
when they went out. Tracy found the deferring to your sire part hard to
manage. She just wasn't used to being subservient. "It looks as how I
can't control yer."
"I know, I just don't like it." Tracy explained. "I always had to stand up
for myself."
"Pet. I wouldn't make yer do anything yer didn't want. I ain't never done
it like that. Thing is, I has the right and they knows it." She nodded as
they drove up the M1 motorway to the north.
"Fine, I can do company manners." Tracy smiled at him. Screed was right,
he did have the power over her, he just never chose to use it. He was very
gentle with her. She knew from talking to other young vampires in the clubs
how unpleasant and demanding their makers could be. Then again they thought
it laughable that she should be a carouche.
She did not know why. Tracy had come to be proud of what she was. She did
not need to kill people, drink human blood. She was just as good as any of
the others. She looked at the heavy seal ring on her finger. It was good
that Screed wanted to inform the community that she was off limits. He was
teaching her to shield her signal but she couldn't always maintain it, and
sometimes her youth was clear.
Tracy ran a hand through her hair. She had been to enough formal and
tedious parties, played the office politics game, learned to control her
temper, she was even good at it. "How far are we going?"
"To Nottingham." He responded and drove on. "She 'as a place there."
End of Part One
Burning the Stubble 2/3
By Spike Shovelton
See Part One for disclaimer
They turned up the road towards Sherwood Forest and off down a lane. "Here
we is." Screed pointed to a gothic monstrosity on a hill. "That'll be
Carfax where Rachel lives."
"You're joking, surely." Screed shook his head. "Carfax?"
"Aye, pig ugly ain't it?" Screed smirked. "Rachel was fair cracked to buy
it, but she likes it."
Tracy studied the large country house and looked at Screed. "For a moment I
thought it was going to be a big house." She said deadpan and he looked at
her before bursting into laughter. She tended to have that effect on him.
He parked in the grounds and they walked up to the door and Screed knocked.
A slender dark haired man let them in and smiled. "She's in the
conservatory, expecting you."
"Ta Matthew." He said and smiled at her. "Come on then."
Once they went into the conservatory Tracy studied the figure in the
armchair. She was a tall elegant woman with black hair and olive golden
skin. Tracy was reminded of a religious postcard that a friend had sent her
of Judith and Holofernes. The beautiful woman standing over the man as she
danced, her hand on his face as she brought out a knife to kill him. This
woman looked a lot like Judith.
"Thaddeus." She studied him and extended her hand. Tracy watched as her
maker took and kissed it. "My son, it pleases me to see you." Tracy hid a
smile, his name was Thaddeus? No wonder he had refused to tell her.
"I 'ad forgotten yer were so lovely Rachel." Screed said and looked at her.
"Yer looks well."
"I am very well." The other responded, speaking English with a slight
accent. "You have been reproducing I see." She walked over and looked down
at Tracy, walking around her as one studying a new horse. "What is her
name?"
"Tracy Vetter." Screed said and put a hand on her shoulder.
"I see." The woman reached for Tracy's face and tugged on a lock of fair
hair. "Good taste." Tracy sighed and took in a deep breath at this. "Not
bad at all." Her eyes went to the signet ring. "I have a friend who likes
pretty blondes. He would enjoy her." She saw the scowl on Screed's face
and Tracy bit her lip, wanting to say something but responding to the signal
her maker was sending. "You know I am your sire and you can refuse me
nothing."
"Mebbee so, but she be mine, and anyone touches her dies." Screed said.
"That will 'old against everyone."
"You must be quite smitten." The brunette smiled and her eyes softened and
she turned back to Tracy. "Is she loyal to our family?"
"Arsk her." Screed responded. "She can speak for 'erself."
"Of course." The elder turned to Tracy and pinned her with sharp eyes. "I
need for my family to be loyal, and to place their trust in me. Will you do
that?"
Tracy knew that she should agree and it was expected that she would. "I
keep my word. As a police officer I served the force, and the people. I
give you my respect, but trust and loyalty really should be earned.
Shouldn't they?"
Screed drew in a sharp breath and the other woman paused before chuckling
softly. "You are quite right. Those who trust too easily do not live
long." She smiled then. "I think I see why my son wanted you." She turned
to her son. "Thaddeus why don't you fetch us something to drink." She said
and Screed nodded, hearing the dismissal in the voice. Once he had gone
Rachel turned to Tracy in amusement. "He is sometimes difficult, my son."
"I couldn't ask for a better master." Tracy protested and Rachel studied
her before nodding.
"You truly believe that?" Tracy nodded. "Do you love him?"
"Of course, he's a wonderful man, a great friend." Tracy smiled.
"I see." Rachel sighed heavily. "I had hoped for more. Thaddeus is dear
to me." She studied the other. "I understand you were a friend of
Vachon's. How did you meet Thaddeus?"
Tracy nodded and let the elder question her. Rachel asked her everything
from her past, to her future plans, and political and ethical views. The
elder gave no clue as to whether these views pleased her. It was difficult
to answer some of the questions. Finally the elder sat back and looked at
Tracy. "I see now why Thaddeus asked for you to be protected." Tracy
looked surprised. "He did tell you that I am an enforcer?"
"No." Tracy said and the other sighed.
"I am one of the senior enforcers of the code. Thaddeus called me from
Toronto said that a friend of his had broken the code. I knew of course, in
fact the enforcers were debating termination orders. He asked me to remove
you from that." Rachel smiled at the wide-eyed blonde. "He took
responsibility for you."
"He never said." Tracy responded and the other shrugged.
"He wouldn't." Rachel responded. "He took responsibility for you, agreed
to guarantee your behaviour with his life. If you had endangered the
community then he would have been killed."
"I had no idea." Tracy looked at the other as the conservatory door opened.
Screed came in with a bottle and three glasses.
"Now you do. Thaddeus, pour us drinks." Rachel commanded. Tracy felt a
sudden pleasure that Screed never ordered her to do anything in that tone.
She rose to help him and Rachel motioned her to sit. "He can pour them. In
my view, men should make life more comfortable for women."
"That has merit." Tracy said and smiled. The elder was prickly and not an
easy friend. Tracy had a sudden memory of Jane Austen books. She felt like
Lizzie Bennett visiting Lady Catherine de Burgh. Quite what that made
Screed she did not know. Tracy sipped the wine and then smiled. Sheep's
blood fortunately.
"Now, you must be tired." The elder said quickly. "Plus you will need to
unpack. The rest of the guests will arrive just before dawn. Come back
here then." She rang a bell and Matthew reappeared. "Show this one to her
room."
Tracy left, well aware that she was being dismissed. She followed the tall
vampire out of the conservatory and down several corridors. "You don't have
a map?" She asked and he turned and a smile crossed his face.
"It is a bit difficult." He said and looked at her. "I think we must be
related. I'm Matthew Smith. I am Rachel's butler."
"Butler?" Tracy asked in amazement.
"Local colour for the tourists. I was a footman in the eighteenth century.
I saw something I shouldn't and like an idiot I spoke about it." He smiled
at his folly. "She said I might like to consider joining them or I might
like to consider dying. I considered it and she brought me over."
"Do you mind it?" Tracy asked and he shrugged.
"Beats the life I would have had." He smiled. "Rachel is an incredible
woman. When I first saw her I thought she was a goddess. One of the young
lords I served made a derogatory remark and I wanted to kill him. She
didn't let me. I don't need to be her butler but I like being with her."
"Good." Tracy said as they came to one end door. "Is this my room?"
"Yes. You and Thaddeus share a bathroom but you have your own room." He
let her in. "Would you like me to call you when the guests arrive?"
"Yes please." Tracy said and he nodded and turned to go.
"You're not a prisoner, but I would advise you not to go wandering off."
Was his parting remark and he left. Tracy smiled and went to the wardrobe.
Her cases had been unpacked and she smiled as she stretched. She took a
long bath and then stretched out on the bed. She could take a hint. In a
house of vampires and enforcers it might not be good to go exploring. She
let her eyes fall shut.
Screed looked at her for a moment and drew in a sudden breath. That was a
sight to tempt a priest. She was wrapped in a towel, covering her from just
above her knees to her elegant throat. She was so perfect, the navy blue
towel making her skin seem paler and her legs went on forever. He wanted to
take her and make her his love. Rachel had called him a fool for being so
gentlemanly but he liked having her around too much to frighten her off.
He walked over to the bed and looked down at her and a line of verse crept
into his mind. "A sweet disorder in the dress, kindles in clothes a
wantonness." He murmured. When he had come across, Rachel had taught him
to read and write and appreciate classics and poetry and music, how to
please a woman in bed, and how to dance with one. She had tried and failed
to iron out his accent, the one thing he refused to yield. Still he had
learnt so much else from her, even if they could not agree on everything.
She had told her friend George about trying to teach Screed correct English
and failing, and her friend had used her idea in a play and not even given
her credit for the idea, or a share of the royalties from the musical.
He sent out a mental feeler and watched as Tracy woke up slowly, blinking,
her eyelids fluttering open. He kept being surprised by the colour of her
eyes. She reached under the pillow before turning to him. She seemed to
react by instinct, reaching for the gun and stake under her pillow, even
though she no longer carried either.
"Screed." She said and looked at him with a smile. "Time to face the
enemies?"
"I reckon so." He responded and smiled at her. He walked to the desk and
poured her a glass of wine and handed it to her. "Rachel liked ya."
"She's quite dangerous." Tracy looked at her master and drank the wine
down. "Is she trustworthy?"
"Aye. I've trusted 'er with me life more than once. She ain't never let me
down. Just don't cross 'er."
"Noted." Tracy looked at him. "Give me ten minutes to get ready."
Tracy was introduced to more people than she wanted to remember. More even
than the mayor of Toronto's tediously dull parties. She found the faces
beginning to blend together by the time they were released and allowed to go
back to sleep. There was to be a formal ball the following evening.
Tracy studied herself in the mirror. The ballgown was exquisite; then again
it had been an exquisite price. Screed had told the shop assistant that
money was no object but that it must not be black. The gown was red and
cream. The top part was delicate, shimmery creamy silk, off the shoulder
with a scooped neckline. It was drawn in at the waist before the deep red
velvet skirts billowed out.
A very simple design, but so well cut that it suited her. Then again Frank
Usher made beautiful dresses. As she turned to go she saw Screed standing
beside her. He looked very good in a tuxedo. The rich scarlet cummerbund
and white shirt accentuated a surprisingly muscular physique. He would
never be handsome but he looked quite distinctive. "I gots a pressie for
yer." He held out a box to her and Tracy opened it and whistled at the
contents. She looked at the beautiful diamond and ruby pendant on the gold
chain.
"That's beautiful." She murmured and touched the stones. "How old is it?"
"A couple of centuries." He admitted. "French, at the revolution ya could
get great bargains. Belonged to a duchess." He wondered at the expression
on her face. "Don't yer like it?"
Tracy swallowed. Nobody had given her something so valuable. Oh men had
given her jewellery more than once. Yet never without wanting something
back, sex or whatever. Her father had given her gifts, among them the pearl
earrings she was now wearing. Screed had stolen them from her flat before
they had left town along with her teddybear and a few other things she
couldn't leave behind, remnants of her old life. Gifts from her father
always tasted of bribes. Screed gave her a beautiful antique pendant and had
never asked for more than she wanted to give. She turned to look at him and
smiled, a smile so bitterly sweet that he wanted to cry.
"It's beautiful and I love it." Tracy walked over and turned. "Put it on
me." He did so, leaning up on tiptoes. Tracy giggled; it was so funny that
in these heels she was taller than he was. She turned and looked into his
unshielded eyes, wondering at the depth of emotion. "Thanks." She leaned
over to kiss his cheek but he turned at the same time and her lips brushed
his.
Screed shivered as the contact between them intensified the link between
them. Her blood was so sweet he could almost taste it. He had not tasted
her since he had brought her across and he had never forgotten the taste of
her blood, fresh tropical fruits and flowers, like the breath of a lost
desert island, despite the drugs and sickness in it.
He desired her more than anything imaginable and he slid one hand into her
glossy hair as he drew her towards him. Tracy enjoyed being held. It was so
good to feel arms around her. His kiss was probing and for a moment she
enjoyed it. Then she paused. This was Screed, had she lost her mind?
Tracy felt herself withdraw. Her maker had never told her that he wanted
anything of that sort from her.
Screed felt it too and looked into her enormous blue eyes. "Sorry about
that."
Tracy shrugged. "We'd better." She took a deep breath. "Better go down to
the party."
"Yeah." Screed watched as she glided across the room, a shimmer of red and
ivory.
He could not keep his eyes off her the whole evening, watching as she danced
and laughed and talked with the community. She was good at the socialising
game. "You ought to take action." Rachel looked at her son in amused
pleasure. "You want her, in fact I've rarely seen you so attached."
"T'aint like that." Screed said and looked at his maker. She was lovely in
a shimmering turquoise gown, looking like something from a film about the
decadent middle east. "She still loves V Man."
"But dead lovers are hardly warm in your arms." Rachel said in amusement.
"I still love my husband, and he has been dead for almost 3 millennia. I
think if you don't act then someone else might." She pointed to the black
clad figure at the edge of the dancefloor. "Lucius is excellent in bed, but
I think he would be too cold for her, too self willed."
"'Im?" Screed looked at the old vampire. "I dun't think so."
"Faint heart and all that." Rachel smiled but her eyes were as cold as
eternity. "Vachon was your friend and I respect that, but I think she is
too constant for him."
Tracy sighed as she poured herself another drink. She was quite enjoying
the socialising, but it was worrying that everyone else was three times her
age. She couldn't escape the feeling that there was more going on here than
she thought. This was a house party, true enough but all the same. "This
isn't the junior chamber of commerce Brad." She murmured.
"They're probably foreigners, with ways different than our own." Came an
amused voice and Tracy turned, recognising it. Since coming across she had
not seen anyone from Toronto. They had looked for Nick but been unable to
find him. To see his frighteningly old maker was chilling.
"General." Tracy said and took his extended hand. "A pleasure to see you
again." Her face contradicted her words.
"The pleasure is all mine." Lacroix responded and looked at her. "You are
more lovely than I imagined. May I have the next dance?"
"Of course." Tracy said with no enthusiasm. "You can tell me how Nick is
doing."
"Very well I believe." He said. "He is in Baltimore with his sister
Janette."
"Natalie?" Tracy asked and he put one finger to his lips and paused for a
moment. Tracy felt a sudden fear. She had heard rumours that Natalie had
joined them, but nothing reliable. Tracy had a dreadful sense of
foreboding. Had something happened to Natalie? A couple of people had asked
her how her partner and his girlfriend were doing and it made her wonder
even more. "She is okay?"
"Quite well." He responded and took her hand and led her onto the
dancefloor. Tracy did not trust him in the least and she did not like the
appraising look in his eyes. "You seem to be adapting very well to our
lifestyle." He said and she nodded. "A shame that one so lovely is a
carouche."
"I don't have a problem with it." Tracy said, her eyes diamond hard.
Lacroix looked at her with interest. This was more and more amusing. "I am
proud of my maker and my lineage."
"Good." Lacroix smiled blandly then his smile turned wickedly charming.
"So can you do the time warp?"
"Can I? I'm the best in the station." Tracy said and returned his smile.
"I love that show. Especially Riffraff." He laughed and began to tell her
a wicked anecdote about when he and Janette went to the show in London,
dressed as Magenta and Riffraff, and discovered Nick who had come as Rocky.
Tracy found herself enjoying the dance. Screed watching her as she laughed
and enjoyed herself felt a hard knot of jealousy. She wasn't his lover; he
hadn't minded when one of her mortal friends had asked her out. Yet this
really pissed him off. Lacroix should mind his own business. When the
dance music changed he walked across the floor to where they were dancing.
"Mind if I cuts in?" He asked, his tone not taking a refusal and Lacroix
nodded and stepped back.
Tracy had seldom seen her maker look so grim and she studied him with
interest. "What is it?" She asked him.
"Nuffin." He replied, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. "D'yer like
him?"
Tracy shook her head and looked at him. "He gives me the creeps." She
admitted. "He's very charming and good company, but those eyes are like
glass. If he didn't move I'd think him a statue."
"What do ya thinks of the other folks here?" Screed asked and she looked
around. "Ya danced with everyone."
"Okay, the guy over there with red hair. He is such a poser, thinks he is
gods gift and won't stop feeling me up." Tracy grinned. "I told him you
would castrate him and if you didn't then I would. The fair haired guy in
the corner kept asking me where Natalie was and if I knew." She sighed.
"That man over there with the dark hair. He was curious about that too,
kept pressing for a response. So did three other people." She looked at
Screed. "What is going on?"
"Nowt going on." Screed said and looked away.
"Screed." Tracy said and he looked back. "You are a dreadful liar.
Something is going on and it gives me the creeps not knowing about it. It
stinks of a trap."
"Baby Jane, leave it." Screed asked her and Tracy looked away.
"Why?" Tracy asked. "What is going on? I hate it when people keep me in
the dark. Nick always did and I didn't tolerate it from him either." She
realised that Screed was in unspoken contact with his maker, their eyes
locked but no word spoken. Finally she nodded and he turned back to Tracy.
"Act normal." He whispered and she studied him, amazed as he drew her
closer and kissed her hard on the lips. Tracy froze for a moment as he did
so, a part of her enjoying the experience. He was a good kisser and the
fact that she could feel his enjoyment through their link only made the
experience more intense. He drew her closer and she could feel his arms
hold her tightly, his fingers trembling against her back.
He led her off the floor and kept one arm around her waist as they left the
room. Tracy was grateful that vampire complexions prevented her from
blushing at the chorus of knowing groans and the sly winks aimed at them.
Screed led her up to her room and through into his room. Once there she
looked at him, wondering if he was going to jump on her, and if so whether
it was a good or bad thing.
End Part Two
Burning the Stubble 3/3
By Spike Shovelton
See Part One for disclaimer.
There was a movement behind them. A bookcase opened to reveal Rachel
standing there, elegant in her dark green dress. She looked more like an
avenging Judith than ever before. As she turned Tracy saw faint blue
numbers on her right arm, above the elbow. She made a mental note to ask
about that. "Tracy." She said and came into the bedroom. "I respect that
you will not pledge me your loyalty, but will you keep your word?"
"If I give it then I keep it." Tracy responded and the other studied her a
moment before nodding.
"I have spoken with Lucius and he says that you are trustworthy. I need you
to give me a solemn binding vow that you will not disclose to another soul
what I am about to share with you." Rachel went to sit on the bed. "Can
you give me that oath?"
Tracy looked at her, wondering what this was all about. She looked at
Screed and he nodded. "I'll give a guarantee."
"On his life then, will you swear not to disclose this?" Tracy nodded and
the matriarch smiled.
"You have my word." Tracy said quickly.
"It concerns your friend Natalie Lambert." Rachel said and looked at the
other. "Lucius brought her across to save Nicholas and for a time Nicholas
and Natalie were together." She shrugged her shoulder. "It did not work,
Nicholas preferred Natalie as a mortal and was unable to accept that she had
changed. Soon after he left with Janette there were two attempts on her
life."
"Someone tried to kill Natalie?" Tracy said and the other nodded.
"Lucius informed us and we took her into protective custody." Rachel smiled
and this time her eyes were mischievous. "She did not like it. We have
been investigating to try and find the one responsible. We believe it is
the child of an elder who died in the fever. This childe blamed her for the
fever hitting Toronto and seeks revenge."
"But you don't know who?" Tracy asked and the others nodded.
"The elder in question made several children and we are not aware which ones
survived him. After the fever there was great confusion. Many people left
and it was difficult to count survivors. We know the perpetrator to be male
but we are not aware of his identity." Rachel shrugged. "One reason I
invited you here was that people might ask you, and it would give us a clue.
You are wired for sound."
Tracy looked at the other, then down at her pendant, so that was why he had
given it to her. Screed winced at the look of annoyance and betrayal in her
eyes. "No, I gived yer that because I wanted to."
"The listening device is in the heel of your shoe." Rachel said and smiled.
"Thaddeus gave you the necklace because he is a sentimental fool."
Tracy decided to dismiss that issue. "So how can I help?" Tracy asked and
the others smiled.
"Go back down and socialise, people are becoming even more intoxicated. Can
you do dizzy and euphoric?" Rachel asked and Tracy nodded. "Tell everyone
who is interested, and a few who aren't, that you have found Natalie Lambert
and are going to see her tomorrow evening. If anyone else did it then it
would be thought to be a trap. People know that you haven't offered me any
loyalty, I made sure of that, so they might believe you."
"So you didn't want me to?" Tracy asked and the old woman smiled.
"I knew you wouldn't. Your personality profile indicates that you do not
trust easily." Rachel smiled at her. "It was a reasonable assumption. Two
centuries ago I would simply have ordered a purge of the likely suspects,
but times change."
"I'm glad to hear it." Tracy said and the other smiled again, this time
almost reaching her eyes. "So where do I take them tomorrow?"
"Sheffield, far enough away for the killer not to suspect and close enough
for you to reach. I'll give you the address tomorrow and you can set off
at dusk. If you act furtive, as though you were sneaking out, then it will
serve even more." Rachel suggested.
Tracy duly did her part in the conspiracy. It was strange but Screed seemed
to trust this woman, and she trusted Screed. She smiled and laughed with
the guests until her face ached and they all laughed at the appropriate
places. Had she known it, Natalie Lambert was not having an easy time
either.
"How much longer?" Natalie glared at Lacroix as she paced up and down the
luxurious apartment. "I hate being cooped up like this. I want him to be
locked up."
"He won't survive to be locked up, he will be dead." Lacroix assured her,
and his smile was cold. "Nobody harms my family." He walked over to her
and his gaze softened. "Especially not you, ma belle."
He wreathed one curl around a finger and as he did so he heard a displeased
meowing. Nat looked down at her cat then up at her sire. "He still doesn't
like you."
"I know." Lacroix said and returned his attention to his most recent
childe. "It will all be over soon, and then I will have you to myself
again." He pulled her closer. "Now let me see if I can distract you until
then." Her response was forestalled by his kiss.
Tracy smiled as she let herself out of the house and walked to the car. She
had let it be known that she did not like flying and she smiled as she set
off down the drive. Screed came running down the drive shouting at her to
come back. Tracy smiled as she left. That had made it plain to any
watchers that he was not in on it.
She drove into the countryside, looking at the attractive fields. Screed
loved England but after Canada it was small. She did sometimes feel
constrained by the small regular fields and neat woodlands, longing for the
Rockies and the open snow covered north. Still she could be plenty worse
off, she was alive, she didn't need to kill people, she would live for a
long time, barring unforeseen mishaps, she had a kind, understanding maker
who kissed very well.
She smiled as she followed the instructions. At the traffic lights she
paused and sent out her mind, she was not alone. She could feel someone
following her. Hopefully this was the killer. She looked at the wing
mirror. Whoever this vamp was, he was terrible at tailing. As a cop she
had learned how to tail people well. He blatantly had not, which indicated
either that he didn't know how to, or that he didn't care if she saw him or
not. As she pulled up at a house near the cathedral she studied the scene.
Hopefully this would work. She went over to the door and lifted the brass
knocker before letting it fall.
The door was opened and she smiled as she recognised the figure on the step.
This was like old home week. Miklos, the bartender at the Raven, smiled
at her. "I'm here to see Natalie." Tracy said loudly and the other nodded
and let her in.
Once inside Tracy noticed the black clad enforcers standing in groups,
poised and ready to strike. She was heartily glad that she was not the
enemy as they all carried decorated stakes and guns and swords. One of them
put fingers to his lips and motioned her into another room. This was a
drawing room, very open plan and well furnished. Tracy saw Natalie in a
window seat and she went over to it. The figure turned to her and came over
and embraced her. "Hey, Nat. How are you?" Tracy hugged the other woman
and looked at her fondly. "You look great." Natalie did look good, glowing
with contentment and very well dressed. She handed Tracy a glass. Tracy
smiled at the scent, ice-cream soda with blood, very pleasant.
"So do you." Natalie smiled at her. "I am bored out of my mind.
Protective custody is so dull." She sipped the slushy drink and smiled.
"Do you miss chocolate?"
"Oh yes." Tracy responded and swirled her straw in the drink. "I'm so glad
to see you again." She said and Natalie smiled.
"They wanted me to stay at a safe house, but there is no way I am going to
hide away." Natalie smiled and they heard a knocking. "Sounds like our
suspect." She smiled and pulled out a stake. "I did have to promise that
we would stay out of the way unless he attacked us so we have to remain
here." The other smiled and scooped her cat up in her arms. "Still we can
catch up on news."
Tracy nodded and began with the question she was dying to ask. "So what
happened with you and Nick? I thought you were the perfect couple."
"Nick had me on a pedestal, the perfect mortal ideal." Natalie spoke
softly, her voice uninflected. "Pedestals are uncomfortable lonely places.
I couldn't be that, I had changed and become something else. I didn't want
to sit and brood for eternity and Nick found it difficult to accept that I
changed. We grew apart I think."
"I can imagine." Much to her surprise Tracy could see the problem. "So you
split up?"
"It just wasn't working." Natalie explained as they heard loud shouting.
"We fell into a pattern, I shouted and he brooded. Then Janette came to
town." Natalie sighed. "I couldn't compete and didn't want to try. I love
Nick dearly but I am no longer in love with him."
"I can understand that." Tracy remembered how easy it could be to let ex
lovers be friends. "Do you have his number? I'd like to keep in touch."
"Of course." Natalie scribbled down a phone number and an e-mail address
and handed it to Tracy. The other began sharpening a stake casually as the
sounds of the skirmish grew louder.
"So who are you with now?" Tracy asked and Natalie looked down at her soda.
"Come on, I can see contentment there. Who is it and I want gory
details."
"Well." Natalie smiled. "A few weeks after Nick left the stalking began.
I got anonymous calls, bloody stakes through the post, the works. Nick had
said if I had trouble to go to a friend in the enforcers. I did and two
days later Nick's maker, my maker too, Lacroix turned up. I hadn't seen him
since he brought me across. He shouted at me, in what I think was Latin,
not the kind I learnt in medical school, told me I ought to have gone to
him."
"I can picture that." Tracy said and Natalie smiled.
"I told him he was a conceited piece of horse dropping who should be crushed
underfoot like a common louse." She smiled. "I didn't know that those
words meant that. One of my lecturers used the expression sometimes. Then
Lucius laughed and said he would look after me. He ensured protection for
me and things just happened."
"You and the old general?" Tracy asked, unbelieving. "You're joking.
Why?"
"He was there. He was gentle with me and I know he won't go away without an
explanation. He always keeps his word and doesn't lie to me. If I ask him,
he tells me the truth." Natalie smiled. "In an ideal world, Nick and I
would have walked off into the sunset and lived happily ever after." Her
smile turned bitter. "This isn't an ideal world. Sometimes you have to
take what comes, love where you can. My mother said if you can't be with
the one you love, then love the one you're with."
"Wise." Tracy said and they talked some more. It was good to talk to
someone from Toronto. Tracy became aware that Natalie was increasingly pale
as the door swung open. Tracy looked at the dark haired figure in the
doorway, a dart gun in one hand and a long pointed stake in the other.
Tracy looked at him as he stepped through towards them, through the smoke of
the hallway. There was a flash as he threw something at Natalie. Tracy
could smell garlic and realised that their adversary had used a gas bomb.
The putrid stench irritated her lungs and made her cough. It had affected
Natalie, who had caught the brunt of it, far more seriously and the coroner
wavered on her feet, unable to think straight or to move properly.
For a moment Tracy froze as the man took aim, trying to see through the
stinging mist that made red tears fall from her eyes. Natalie was no
better. For a moment Tracy struggled to remain alert, like one fighting a
tidal wave. Then she reacted, grabbing Natalie and pushing her to the
ground as the holy water dipped, wooden bullets were shot overhead.
Her move was fractionally too slow and Tracy drew in a sharp breath as she
felt the bullet pierce her arm. She tried to force down the pain and draw
herself to her feet. In the time it took for her to compose herself she saw
the man moving to Natalie. Nat kicked out but she was too much affected by
the gas that overwhelmed her." Tracy hissed between dropped fangs. The man
turned and glared at her.
"She must die." He had pinned Natalie and drawn a long, horribly sharp
sword. "She killed him."
Tracy moved faster, catching his sword arm on the downswing, ignoring the
daggers of pain this shot through her. She did not think she was strong
enough to hold him at bay, as he was older. As they struggled she twisted
them away from Natalie. She grabbed hold of a chair and broke the back off
it, vampire strength for once useful. She brought the chair back up towards
him and drove the two sharpened points into his stomach, heedless of the
splinters in her hands from the broken wood. Her left arm was agony and she
knew that she could not keep it up much longer. She gave one final push,
before her strength gave out.
The force of the blow sent him staggering backwards, just as the room filled
with enforcers and Lacroix came over and gathered Natalie up. Rachel came
in as they took the prisoner away. "Well done." She said to Tracy. "We
had not anticipated that he would bring so many mortal decoys."
"Is it over now?" Tracy asked. "Is that the culprit?"
"Oh yes, we have caught him." She smiled. "I will deal with your hands.
You must have the splinters removed, as well as the bullet in your arm."
She looked at the broken chair and shook her head. "I liked that chair."
"Sorry." Tracy said and the other smiled.
"No matter." She looked at Tracy. "Come granddaughter." The others looked
at Tracy in surprise but she moved to flank the old enforcer and followed
her into another room. "Sit down, I will tend to your hands."
She did, picking out the splinters and bullet with tweezers. "You've been a
doctor?" Tracy asked.
"Yes, a nurse too. I was skilled in healing as a mortal woman; I knew the
appropriate herbs. My father was a soldier and he wished me to learn."
Rachel smiled. "More recently I served as a nurse in the Crimea and one in
the first war, then in the seventies as a doctor in Africa." Rachel smiled.
"Not in the second war." She pulled the bullet out easily enough.
"I saw the marks on your arm." Tracy said before she could stop herself.
"Observant. You aren't supposed to be able to tattoo vampires, you can but
it fades quickly. Vampire healing will dissipate the ink eventually. Every
year I have it replaced and will do until a century has passed, out of
tribute to those of my people who died." Her face twisted into a bitter
frown. "Screed helped me and a group of us out of Tereczin." Tracy looked
blank. "Everyone knows Auschwitz but Mr Spielberg didn't make a film about
Tereczin. It was a camp." Rachel laughed bitterly.
"A concentration camp?" Tracy asked and the enforcer nodded. "I'm sorry."
There was nothing else to be said.
"I sometimes wonder what my people did to be so reviled." Rachel said
softly. "I never could understand what frightened people, even Thaddeus at
first. Until he realised that we didn't crucify Christians on a regular
basis or commune with evil spirits or sleep with our brothers. Why they
insisted on blaming us for everything I do not know." Her voice was angry.
"I knew he would help me out, get me out of there. He will always be there
in an emergency. He is one of the truest people I know."
"Yes." Tracy agreed and looked at the old vampire. "How did you survive?"
"It was easier for me than for others. I fed from the guards, whammied them
into giving me more food." She shrugged. "A few of my friends knew who I
was, what I was. It did not matter. Hardly any of us survived."
"Awful." Tracy agreed.
Rachel smiled suddenly as Screed came rushing in. "Pet, yer 'urt?" He
looked at Tracy and took her hands. "She orright Rachel?" Tracy winced
slightly at the touch of his hand on her hands. She could feel the small
wounds healing over, but her arm ached with a dull fire.
"She took a bullet in the arm, and a few splinters, but she'll be fine."
Rachel assured her childe. "We have caught our killer."
"Good, don't ya be doing that again, fruit." He slid an arm around Tracy,
avoiding touching her injuries. "I was that frit ya'd been 'urt."
"I'm fine." Tracy assured him, enjoying the warmth of his arm. Odd how she
always felt so protected when he was around. She squeezed his hand, the
ring feeling heavy on her finger. "Killer caught, Natalie saved, you're
here. All is well."
"So t'is." Screed wondered at her courage. She had just staked an enemy
and seemed quite unconcerned. She was so strong for all her seeming
fragility.
"Yes well done." Rachel smiled at the other. "You are a useful addition to
my family."
"Thanks." Tracy smiled at her. "Let me know when you want me to pledge my
loyalty. I am starting to trust you more, so perhaps I should."
"I hope so." The enforcer smiled. "I think you had better take her home,
Thaddeus. We will talk later."
Tracy smiled at him. As she stood she remembered Natalie's words. "If you
can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with." There was wisdom
in that. Vachon was dead and she would never have him near her again. Time
to make the best of the situation. She fell into step as they walked back
to the cars.
"Have yer enjoyed the visit?" Screed asked, expecting the answer no. He
watched with concern as she climbed into the car.
"In parts. I liked the dancing, and meeting people, even if I couldn't
remember what I was doing when William the Conqueror invaded." Screed
laughed at that. "I like Rachel. She's remarkable."
"That she be." Screed looked at her. "Well done, yer done good. Let's go
'ome."
Rachel watched as they walked down the corridor, arm in arm. She turned to
where Natalie and Lacroix were emerging from the other room, holding hands.
"I think Shakespeare would have something to say about this." Rachel
grinned. "Praise the lord for alliance. So go all to the world save I, and
I am sunburnt." She smiled at them and turned and left, whistling.
The end.
Notes
1) The flashback is from my imagination; Screed sounded like a sailor to me.
Tyburn is the part of London where the gallows were situated when people
were publicly executed. The Tyburn jig refers to hanging. Pox is Syphilis,
a prevalent and incurable disease of the time, and rolling means robbing.
The press gang used to abduct people and force them into the navy, owing to
the problem of finding recruits.
2) Carfax was the name of the house that Count Dracula rented in England, in
the novel of the same name by Bram Stoker. The irony amused me.
3) The poem quoted by Screed is by Robert Herrick a seventeenth century
English poet. Incidentally Rachel's friend "George" is intended to be Shaw,
whose novel Pygmalion described a professor teaching a flower girl to speak
properly. The novel achieved fame as the musical "My Fair Lady."
4) "This isn't the junior chamber of commerce." "They're probably
foreigners..." are both from "Rocky Horror Show." No infringement of the
copyright of whoever owns the show is intended. I just love the lines so
can't resist it.
5) The title comes from a poem entitled "Burning the Stubble" by Jon
Stallworthy and his copyright to it is acknowledged. Farmers used to set
the fields on fire to remove the dead, wasted stalks and prepare the soil
for the next year's crop. You used to drive along the motorway and see the
fields burning. Now more modern agricultural methods have made this
unnecessary. The idea of purging the dead seed to plant a new crop seemed
appropriate.
6) Theresienstadt or Tereczin was a small town near Prague, used as a
concentration camp during the Second World War. A great many musicians and
artists were sent there. Despite the dreadful conditions, there was an
incredible cultural life in the camp, a fact seized upon by the Nazis for
propaganda purposes. In 1944 the camp was emptied and the inhabitants were
sent to Auschwitz. The majority of them were murdered in the gas chambers
upon arrival.
7) "So go all to the world" comes from "Much Ado about Nothing" by William
Shakespeare.
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