Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter one - 

After over 100 years locked together, leaving Elisabeth had been like breaking a bone. Quick and painless, but the main ache came afterwards. He had told old Bridget he would be heading back to London and quickly made travel arrangements.

‘Are you sure it’s a good idea to go back to the city, Jonathan? I know you’ve travelled to nearby towns, but… London is sprawling now. Nothing like when we lived there.’ She asked him while he was packing a few bits into a small bag. It was a fair question. He had been very committed to the promise he made her. After she killed William Marshal, he had promised they would stay locked together while he worked on a cure, and he mostly had.

They were in the last testing phases before he thought it would be perfected. Old Bridget had cared for them, but in the last twenty years, they had been slightly more relaxed, and Jonathan often travelled to nearby towns for supplies or just to speak to another person.

He did love Elisabeth, but they both agreed that once the cure had been perfected, being let out would do them both some good.

‘I agree, it seems a bit intimidating. But this is my problem, so I should really see what I can do to investigate. Plus, the transfusion I’ve given you will take a week before we see any updates. I might as well use that time. You’re not upset I’m leaving, are you?’

She smirked at him. ‘I’ve spent a long time without you, Jonathan. I’m sure I can last the week. Plus I’ve got a few novels Bridget brought me that I’ve meant to read.’

After Jonathan received the letter from Sean, he knew he would need to do something. After finding out about Swansea's betrayal — using Elisabeth's blood to try and treat Harriett Jones — Jonathan did not quite know what to do with him. He was the administrator of the Pembrook, a hospital already on its knees that would not survive without him. At the time, it felt like the lesser of two evils to turn him, and hopefully, the guilt would stop him from further experimentation.

In hindsight, that did not seem to be the case.

Sean's letter had been brief and was a week old; it was the 21st century, but neither he nor Elisabeth had taken to modern technology, cooped up as they were.

Dr Reid,

I apologise for disrupting your isolation.

However, a friend of mine has recently arrived in London from Germany. He told me that he met Dr Swansea abroad very briefly. Before becoming a Skal, he had worked as an assistant for the late Dr Hussain at the University of Cologne. He explained to me that before his death, Dr Hussain had been fascinated with the supernatural. My friend, Lewis, said that he caught his affliction from a Skal corpse the doctor had kept in his lab.

He met Dr Swansea through Dr Hussain. Lewis has told me he does not know the specifics, but they both discussed an experiment on a vampiric child. After his infection, Lewis fled Germany and has since found shelter here in London through a mutual contact.

I do not want to explain everything in a letter, as it may be best for an in-person conversation. I understand if you do not wish to travel to London. If you allow, I can come to you instead. Bridget can contact me.

If you do travel, go to The Royal Oak on the outskirts of Kipling Estate. The landlord is a friend and can help you find me.

Kind regards,

Sean Hampton.

After receiving the letter, Jonathan asked Elisabeth for her opinion. Her opinion on Swansea had been very low for a while, and she did not seem surprised that he had continued experimentation on their kind. She also explained that vampiric children could indicate either of two things: a child who had been turned or a dhampir, a bastard child between an Ekon and a mortal.

It could, realistically, be nothing but hearsay. Dr Swansea and Dr Hussain could have simply been discussing this child, or the child could have been a patient. But Elisabeth was right. Swansea had done something similar before, and if he was doing so, Jonathan had a sick sense of responsibility. ‘Do you think the Guard Sean has mentioned is Priwen? They still can’t be active. And in Germany, of all places.’ Elizabeth asked him, and he had just finished packing and was ready to leave the following night.

‘I’m not sure. I saw no other vampires when I travelled from the estate, nor any hunters. They might have simply moved to the mainland years ago.’ A few years after their initial isolation, news had spread that the second great hunt had mostly been a success. The Ascalon Club had either dissolved or moved from the city completely; the Sewer Skals Bridget had contact with did not know which.

Around fifty years ago, London had been declared a ‘no-go zone’ for vampires. Another issue Jonathan felt partly responsible for.

His other progeny, McCullum, kept to his promise of hunting vampires and had made the city mostly vampire-free. Whether Priwen stopped active hunting due to the lack of prey, or simply moved was another topic they did not have answers to. After asking Bridget, she did confirm that there was some active agreement between McCullum and Sean regarding the Sewer Skals, though she did not know the specifics.

All in all, Jonathan had to admit he was going in mostly blind. But he had faced the worst odds. He kissed Elisabeth goodbye the following night and caught the next available taxi to the train station.

The train arrived at 7 pm, just as the sun was going down, and he was able to book a train with individual rooms and save himself the trouble of having to stop off midway through his journey to avoid the sun. London was both extremely unfamiliar to him and completely overwhelming. He exited King's Cross station into a city filled with people, more than he had seen on the front lines, more than he had experienced on the busy boats returning people to England after the war.  And yet, everyone was calm. People just existed around each other so effortlessly. The dark, lonely city he had left over a hundred years ago was gone. In its place was a bright, colourful and loud compilation of people and buildings. God, there were so many buildings. He was somewhat familiar with modern architecture from his short visits, but nothing like this. It was understandable how people got lost here.

He understood that Sean had advised him to meet at a pub; however, he wanted to make one visit before he went to see the Sad Saint. He wondered if people even called him that anymore.

When he still lived in London, there had been a handful of underground trains running throughout the city. Now the infrastructure covers not just the whole city but also nearby towns and airports. It was truly impressive. It took him ten minutes of staring at the map before he gave up, asking a nearby employee what the quickest line was to Whitechapel. The Hammersmith & City line had existed as its own separate railway line when he was here previously, but it seemed to have been added to the extensive inner-city transportation network.

He was informed how he could buy a ticket, and the poor man he was speaking to must have thought he was insane or stupid. Perhaps both. Jonathan clearly understood nothing about modern-day London or how to get around.

The line was cramped and warm, and he was pushed up against multiple people. The journey was short, his train to Barking needing only a few stops before he arrived in Whitechapel. He decided if he kept his eyes closed, held his breath and tried to concentrate on his mission to London, he could ignore the smell of blood in the air.

Once in Whitechapel, things were not recognisable, let us say, but he was able to work out where he was heading. He found Tower Hamlets not too far away, and by the time he got there, it was past eight and the crowds were not found near a cemetery. He knew where he was going by that point, and it did not take him long before he found the grave.

Oh Mary. What would you think of the world now…

It only felt fair that he visited his sister. His grief never shrank; his life, himself, only grew bigger around it. It took years before the ‘I must tell Mary this’ faded away, but even now, he sometimes had moments, seconds, when he forgot she had died and the world felt slightly lighter. He should have brought flowers. He felt rude and bare without them now, but finding somewhere that sold flowers this time of night would have been another problem. Instead, he took a hanky from his left breast pocket and cleaned the headstone by hand.

‘You should know I don’t suffer leeches in my city, Reid.’

Jonathan closed his eyes. He did not think, after everything he had seen in the past hour, that he could be any more impressed. And yet, he was. It took McCullum an hour to spot an Ekon in London, a city of millions. He huffed.

‘I wasn’t expecting you to find me so quickly.’ He folded the hanky back up and rose to his feet, turning to the hunter to see how the years had fared him.

‘I had you pinned since you got off the underground. You’re not as skilled as you used to be.’

Two things shocked Reid at first. Firstly, McCullum looked… well, like he lived in 2019 London. He had grown his hair out slightly but kept a very similar style to what he had previously, and wore a pair of jeans with a blue jumper under a leather jacket. Unlike himself, who still dressed in suits. Looking at the hunter made him feel old, and he had not really felt old before. Not around Elizabeth and Bridget, anyway.

He also looked mortal, strangely mortal. His eyes were still blue, lighter than expected, maybe, but there was no twinge of red nor uncanny shine all immortals had.

‘Sean invited me. I just wanted to pay my respects before I go see him. I was under the impression he may have mentioned it to you.’

The hunter shrugged. ‘How often do you think we talk?’

His accent was not as thick either, but that was more expected. Jonathan wiped down his trousers, which were slightly marked by mud. ‘I’m aware you have some form of agreement, perhaps I overestimated your communications, but I need to investigate a few things in the city.’

McCullum smirked slightly at that. ‘An agreement… That’s one way to put it, I suppose. We agreed that I would leave the Sewer community alone on two conditions: they did not make any new skals, and if they were found on the streets hunting people, then they would be free game. No exemptions.’

It was only then that Reid noticed that McCullum was completely unarmed and there was no sword on his back, no crossbow. ‘No longer the fanatic then.’

The comment killed the smirk. ‘There are no Ekons here to create more Skals, the people here do not recognise a vampire, they have no fear of the night. Keeping both the general population safe and keeping the Skals remaining underground is smarter than executing them en masse. But I assure you, doctor, when any of them think they can get away with creeping out… I execute them swiftly.’

Jonathan did not really want to argue as he had nothing against McCullum, really. He was not killing any innocents as far as he was aware. He had a realistic agreement with Sean and the remaining Skal population, and had kept London Ekon-free. He had not executed Reid on the spot, nor brought any weapons.

‘That is fair, I suppose. If you’ve not spoken to Sean, then I assume you’re not aware of the information he’s given me. I was informed that Edgar may be undertaking experiments on vampires in Germany.’

McCullum pulled from his jacket pocket a pack of cigarettes and offered one to the doctor, a small olive branch. ‘No. He hadn’t mentioned it to me. But I was aware Swansea was in Germany.’ Reid accepted the smoke. It had been years since he had, and perhaps he deserved it after the last few hours.

He continued, ‘It doesn’t surprise me, though, he’s always been pushing his luck. You should have let me finish him off before he scampered away, after Talltree kicked him from the Brotherhood.’

That was a shock. Reid had not been told Edgar had been removed from the Brotherhood. The last time he spoke to his maker, he had been told Edgar had ambitions to take over leadership, but that was the last he heard. ‘I wasn’t informed he had been removed.’

The hunter took a drag before answering. ‘And here I thought Edgar would have told you everything, or at least he did ninety years ago. Or did Ms Blackwood scare him off?’

‘Ashbury. Not Blackwood.’

‘A name doesn’t change one's actions, doctor. I know exactly who she is.’

Jonathan took a moment to reply. Was this a threat? Was Geoffrey threatening him? ‘Are you threatening her safety?’

‘If I wanted her dead, Reid, I would have marched to Scotland years ago.’

No threat then. He moved the topic back to Edgar. ‘He did attempt to send letters to me after I isolated myself in Scotland, but I barely replied. Yes, Elisabeth was not happy with him. Any communication between the two seemed… unwise.’

Another drag, slowly this time, letting the smoke drift out. ‘Not even immortality could make Swansea less of a coward. While I was undertaking the second great hunt, we focused a lot on the upper class of English vampires, thinking if we could take out the roots, the tree would topple. I didn’t know at the time, but Edgar was attempting to become Primate of the Brotherhood. It didn’t work, obviously. Five years later, Edgar had been Banned by Talltree and fled the UK. I haven’t heard from him since.’

So he had tried for leadership, but being Banned? ‘Was he a dragon?’

‘That’s a term used by the Brotherhood mostly, but no, not as far as I’m aware. I was still with the Guard then and had people watching him. He did kill innocents, patients, a doctor here and there. But his appetite didn’t seem endless, if that’s what you’re asking. I did ask Talltree something similar before he died, but he claimed Edgar had been Banned for his involvement in the pandemic, not for his actions as an Ekon… A rare thing we agreed on. But Talltree was a cunning bastard. He could have been lying to save face.’ He shrugged then. ‘The man confused me at the best of times, one of the only people who ever spotted me as an immortal.’

Jonathan did not know how Talltree could, as McCullum could pass for a mortal very easily. It was unnerving when the hunter looked at him; it felt like someone was walking over his grave.

‘You don’t seem immortal, that’s true. But you said you knew Edgar was in Germany, did Talltree tell you that as well?’

‘No. He didn’t know where he went.’

Jonathan took a drag himself, and Geoffrey was avoiding answering the unsaid question. But he needed to figure out all the details.

‘So, how do you know?’

‘I have my ways, Reid. I know you think I’m daft, but I’m good at what I do.’

And he was, Jonathan had to admit. McCullum was a very good vampire hunter. London was a complete dead zone for vampires. He had connections with the only vampire group in the country and knew the location of his blood brother despite the distance.

‘The Guard of Priwen is no longer active in England, I assume that was your doing as well.’

He was prepared for a little bite back, as it was a slightly rude question and no doubt a sore spot. But instead, McCullum just looked slightly sad. ‘Now that is a very long story, but to get to the meat and bones… Yes, after the great hunt, we had killed the majority of the English vampire elite. Only two Ekons were left in the UK: yourself and Ms Ashbury. Any Ekons who survived fled, and the remaining members of the Guard either moved to other countries to set up outposts or retired. I couldn’t blame them either way.’

‘Wouldn’t it be three Ekons, Geoffrey?’

‘I’m answering all your questions so nicely, doctor. And yet you’re being such a nasty bastard, do you want me to chase you from the city?’

He lowered his head slightly. ‘You’re right. I apologise.’

‘I won’t let you wander the city alone. I don’t trust you enough for that. But I’ll let you carry out your investigation, on one condition.’

‘And that is?’

‘If Swansea is doing his little experiments, you’ll let me kill him.’

And so, when McCullum stamped out his cigarette and offered his condition, Jonathan met his eyes without flinching.

‘It seems we have a deal.’

Chapter Text

Geoffrey had insisted on going with him to the Royal Oak, despite Jonathan stating multiple times that he was simply going to see Sean and stay there for the day. Still, the hunter had been persistent and asked where they had arranged to meet.

‘I got someone at the local library to print me a map.’ Pulling the folded paper from his back pocket, he showed McCullum where the pub was and how, if he went back to King’s Cross, he could get another train nearby.

Before he could finish explaining, McCullum interrupted. ‘Reid, that’s the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.’ He pulled out what he had recently learnt was a mobile phone.

‘We’ll get the Central line to Bank, then swap to the Northern line. Should take us about half an hour… Unless you have money for an Uber.’

Jonathan had been impressed with his map, not only how he had got it, but also his little plan on retracing his steps. He had felt slightly embarrassed now. ‘I guess we’ll go with that,’ and had folded the paper away.

After their chat, the city’s nightlife had begun to stir. The walk to the cemetery had been quiet, but on the way back, there had seemed to be more groups, pubs were playing music, and the streets seemed to breathe with new life. Before, people had kept their heads down, aware of the busyness, but happy to wander around it. Now, the population had laughed, joked around, and drunk in the streets. This could never have existed in the pandemic-stricken London he had left behind.

McCullum led them to a nearby underground station and, without even looking, knew which of the narrow, cramped corridors led to the Central line.

‘What’s your number? You can call me if you get lost,’ McCullum had asked him once they were on the train.

‘Oh. I don’t have a number.’ The carriage was as congested as before, and again Reid found himself covering his nose slightly, trying to focus on anything else. How can McCullum stand this?

The hunter had looked at him, and he had seemed completely unbothered by the press of nearby bodies, flesh containing fresh and warm blood. Instead, he had seemed more interested in Jonathan's lack of modern technology.

McCullum had been saying something about giving him a note? Jonathan couldn’t focus. ‘How does this noise not bother you?’ he asked, trying to sound polite.

The train had given an announcement that Bank was the next stop, and the hunter had looked at him more intently now. He had that look again, and Reid could feel it like a cold hand on his neck.

He had faced a bloodied goddess, fought more Skal and men than he could count, and nearly lost the woman he loved. And yet, there was a flicker of fear in his chest. A tightness. Reid had been hunted before, by McCullum’s own men no less, but this look was different. He broke eye contact, eyes lowering.

Before either could say anything, they had arrived and quickly exited the carriage. Jonathan moved towards the exit but was pulled back by the collar. ‘We’re not leaving, we need to get a different line.’

‘I’m not a child! Let go.’ But he followed anyway.

‘Feels a bit like you are,’ McCullum said, laughing. ‘Can’t turn around without getting lost or looking confused.’

The underground had been a maze. An endless maze. Everywhere had been exactly alike. Jonathan was already lost, but McCullum seemed to know exactly where he was going. The next line felt no different from the last, and Jonathan couldn’t bring himself to speak while he fought down the bloodlust.

He had shoved the hunger down, kept his eyes closed, and within minutes, they arrived. The stop wasn’t as busy, and both men found themselves alone as they climbed the stairs. ‘I have no idea how you can deal with that. Is it always that awful?’

McCullum glanced back at him. ‘Awful because it’s hot and crowded? Yes. Awful because you could barely keep your fangs in? That’s more your problem.’ Perhaps the hunter took a touch of pity on him. ‘You get used to it. It’s a big city, Doctor…’

‘Just call me Jonathan,’ he had interrupted. If Sean had been right about Swansea, they were most likely going to be working together for a while.

They reached the gates. Geoffrey opened one for himself and waited for Jonathan to follow. While he waited, he slipped his wallet into his jacket, pulled out his phone, and said, ‘Are we friends now, Jonathan?’

‘I don’t think we were ever enemies.’

‘Was that before or after you beat me bloody, then spat blood into my mouth? I often forget, in my old age,’ the hunter mused, opening the map app on his phone. Before Jonathan could reply, he continued, ‘We go left about five minutes. Shouldn’t be far.’

McCullum was tall with a long stride, but Reid kept pace.. ‘I think we remember it differently. You were trying to kill me first, after all… But it doesn’t matter. It’s all in the past. Should we try to be amicable while we work together?’

A short laugh had been what he got in reply, ‘I’m only pulling your leg. Now keep up, we’re nearly there. And because you’re new in town, I’ll buy the first round.’

The Royal Oak was much like the fancier pubs Jonathan had visited before the war: a solid wooden bar to the left, a few stools in front, windows plastered with posters advertising matches, and food deals that seemed to rotate weekly. It was late evening when they arrived, and a few drinkers were scattered at nearby tables.

Behind the bar, a short man wore an open shirt with a vest underneath, tattoos along his chest, a full beard, and a knitted hat.

Jonathan followed McCullum closer to the bar before the hunter asked, ‘What do you want?’

‘Well, according to the letter. If we ask the man serving, he should be able to…’ He had been interrupted.

‘No, what do you want to drink? I wasn’t lying about the first round. I’ll get it. Did you drink ale before, bitter?’ He shrugged, ‘I doubt you were a gin drinker, but apparently, it’s quite popular now. Or are you fancy and drink wine in the pub?’

Jonathan’s eyebrows rose. There was no way McCullum could actually drink, and he knew he himself couldn’t.

‘Oh, um. Well. It’s been so long.’

McCullum just rolled his eyes, walked to the bar and said, ‘Could I have a half of your Stowford Press, and…’ He glanced at the drafts, ‘And a half of Moretti. Also, if you could let Sean know we’re here.’

The bar staff pulled two glasses from behind him. ‘No worries, that will be £9.10.’

Placing two notes on the bar, McCullum glanced back at Jonathan, saw his surprised look, and pulled one back. ‘Go find a seat, Reid. I’ll answer your questions in a minute.’

Questions he had, not only had the drink been incredibly expensive. Nearly ten pounds for two drinks? Surely not.

He had found a quiet corner with an empty table, sitting down and taking off his hat, laying his coat on a spare chair. Geoffrey had sat down not too soon after, placing a small half-pint glass in front of him.

Jonathan had leaned forward, keeping his voice down. Geoffrey had looked mortal, more mortal than any vampire Jonathan had ever met, but, ‘I doubt you can drink this.’ If Geoffrey could, then he needed to know how.

Instead, he received a bemused look. ‘Jonathan, if we could drink this, I’d have been polite enough to buy you a full pint, not a half. I can manage a few sips over a few hours, but mostly I just sniff it. Laugh at me all you want.’

Jonathan had pulled back slightly, ‘Oh. Yes, thank you.’ He had picked up the glass and smelled it. Typically, when he had done this, he had shared a pot of tea with Elisabeth and, on very rare occasions, wine. He hadn’t drunk beer since the war and had felt now he had one, it was quite nostalgic.

‘A couple of sips is more than what I can bear, you’re lucky. I have no idea how you deal with the pain.’

Geoffrey sniffed his cider, shrugged, and said, ‘I find the nausea helps with… other hungers.’ He clearly disliked the topic and hurried on. ‘When I was young, about fifteen, I was put on night watches. There was a man called John who made his own cider, kept it warm on a fire while we sat through the night. Different times then. Could give a teenager a pint, and no one batted an eye.’ A slight smile followed. ‘The smell helps me remember.’

They had sat in silence for a moment. Jonathan had thought he would wait a moment and enjoy his drink before asking any more questions. He had watched quite intently when Geoffrey had taken a slight sip, nothing more than a drop, and had winced slightly. But, true to his word, he had been able to keep it down. Jonathan had put his glass back on the table; he hadn’t been brave enough to try.

‘I did thank you earlier, but I must admit that was ridiculously expensive. I know inflation happens, it’s been a long time.’

Geoffrey looked at him as if he were out of his mind. Jonathan struggled to clarify. ‘Geoffrey, I’m serious.’

They broke eye contact. ‘I’m not trying to make fun of you. But this pub is actually quite reasonable. London is very expensive. More so than everywhere else in the country.’

Jonathan had swallowed slightly. He hadn’t known how many times he could be reminded that the world had moved on without him. It had been a humbling experience.

‘I just… very expensive, you say? And you say you still live in London?’ He hadn’t wanted to assume, but if that had been how much drink was here, what about rent, travel, all the other things that living demanded you pay for?

‘You calling me poor, Reid. That’s very rude. I thought you were more polite than that.’ McCullum was clearly teasing, but he had a point.

Jonathan smiled slightly, ‘You did dig at me that I was posh before.’

Before they could continue their banter, a softer voice had interrupted, ‘Doctor Reid, it’s been a while. It’s nice to see you again, I’m so glad you got my letter.’

Jonathan had greeted Mr Hampton and offered him a seat at their table. After they had shaken hands, Jonathan had asked how he had been in the last hundred years. Sean had explained that he no longer had a shelter in the city, which he had seemed mournful about, but instead helped lead and organise the Skal community in London, which had brought him comfort and meant he had been able to give back to a community which had helped him.

‘It’s peaceful work, Doctor Reid. Being completely truthful, there isn’t much work to be done. We’re a quiet community, we stick to ourselves, and we’re not touched by the outside world. Ekons do not bother us anymore, nor create any more of us. We share food between us equally and do not starve.’

Bridget had explained something similar, though with fewer details. Jonathan asked, ‘You mean corpses, but does your community crave more?’ This had all seemed slightly too good to be true, some sort of idealised version of what he had found himself in the sewers.

‘Of course not, London is a big city. The sad reality is that bodies sometimes have nowhere to go, but the souls have peace, which is the important part. Between that, and our friend Mr McCullum,’ he gestured to the hunter, who had said nothing and only sipped his cider occasionally, ‘helps us control the rest. We do not lose control.’

Jonathan understood. McCullum donated his blood to the Skals, likely to curb their hunger permanently or simply to feed them, a bit more than just keeping them in line, as he had implied in the cemetery.

‘That’s very kind of him; he didn’t mention that to me. But he did say that he does execute members who wish to, perhaps, rejoin society.’

‘Doctor Reid, the Sewer Skals have always been a quiet community, who keep away from humanity for everyone's safety. It works for everyone if we keep to ourselves. Our rule is that Skals may live with us, have as much food as we can spare, occasionally have blood, but must also have respect for others who call London home. Is that not fair?’ Sean replied.

Jonathan admitted it was fair on the surface. The Skals had found some peace, however twisted. They were left alone by hunters and Ekons alike, provided with food and shelter, and London’s mortals were protected from attacks or unwilling transformations.

‘Lewis, this friend of yours, who knows Edgar. You said he was a recent arrival. How many new members do you get if there are no Ekons here turning people, and Skals stick to their own community?’

Sean and Geoffrey had quickly made eye contact, and perhaps this had been a sore topic between the two. Sean rubbed his palms together and cleared his throat. ‘Lewis lived in Cologne, working for Dr Hussain. He had specific knowledge of the experiments and, after his infection, feared being killed. He fled Germany the next day. Mr McCullum brought him to me.’

‘He had driven here. Stopped in London before he was going to drive home, said he had lived in the Midlands before working in Germany. I had spotted the Skal very quickly. When we had spoken, it had been clear he had been turned not too long ago. I had forced him to drink my blood, then gave him to Sean,’ McCullum added.

Jonathan’s understanding sharpened. Edgar didn’t seem the kind to kill someone just for knowing too much, but Lewis had been recently turned. Panic and fear, rather than malice, had driven him home.

‘So, new Skals are rare,’ Jonathan said.

‘In London, extremely so. But I wouldn’t have turned him away, Doctor Reid.’

It had been somewhat of a comfort to see that time hadn’t changed Sean so much; he was still soft-spoken, kind beyond belief, and with an unflappable belief in his fellow man. ‘Would Lewis speak to me? I have a few questions for him.’

Sean agreed, saying Jonathan would need to visit him directly. Before moving on, McCullum asked to take a photo of Jonathan on his phone.

‘And what’s that for?’

McCullum had put his coat back on. ‘You’ve been absent for over a hundred years, and it seems like we’ll be making a little trip abroad. I’m getting you a passport made. I know someone who can do it quickly. I’ll meet you after you’ve spoken with our new friend. I have a spare room so you can stay with me.’ He paused, pocketed his phone, and continued, ‘I doubt he would want to see me anyway.’

He had said his goodbyes before leaving the pub alone.

Sean led Jonathan out the back of the pub, past a few rows of buildings, stopping at a small, red two-seater that seemed older than the other cars on the street. He opened the passenger door for Jonathan and moved to the driver’s side.

The journey wasn’t long, though traffic slowed them occasionally. Jonathan asked about Sean’s life, receiving mostly unremarkable answers. It was strange, however, to hear Sean speak so highly of McCullum. According to him, the Skal community both adored and feared the hunter, the man who fed them but also killed them. It was a peculiar balance.

After about twenty minutes, Sean parked on a quieter road and unlocked a gate, part of a tall brick wall surrounding a large house with boarded-up windows. Otherwise, it was well-kept, with a garden around the perimeter, small patches of flowers, and a few trees.

Inside the garden, Jonathan saw a few Skals watering plants and others sitting quietly under trees. Some heads turned to watch them, but most seemed to give them space.

‘I apologise, doctor. A lot of our community has only ever met one Ekon, and they might be a bit scared of you. We do not get visitors.’

Inside, the house was sparsely decorated, with white walls, bland furniture, and a wooden floor. It felt far more lived-in than the sewers Jonathan had visited previously. The Skals moved freely, dressed cleanly, reading or doing crafts. The Skals had all seemed like Sean; they had walked around without as much pain. The place resembled a long-term hospital ward rather than a Skal community.

Sean spoke to a nearby woman, quietly asking where Lewis was.

Jonathan noticed another, younger woman watching him rather than averting her eyes. He approached slowly, nodding. ‘Good evening, I’m Jonathan Reid. Sean is an old friend and brought me to speak to someone here. May I ask you a few questions?’

The woman had likely been turned in her early twenties or late teens. Her lower left cheek bore an infection, and part of her nose was damaged. Dark eyes reflected light like all vampires, and her olive skin carried a bluish undertone. She wore comfortable clothes: an oversized jumper with a sheep on the front and light linen trousers.

‘Sure. No need to be formal though, name’s Emily.’ The woman had a slight northern twang, perhaps from Sheffield or Doncaster.

‘Ah, I see. Thank you, Emily. Can I ask, how long have you lived here?’ The place had seemed too good to be true. They had graduated from the sewers and now had somewhere warm to live.

‘Is that a roundabout way of asking my age, or how long we’ve had the house?’ She giggled. ‘If it’s age, that’s rude. I doubt you’d answer if asked.’

Jonathan had lowered his head slightly, ‘I’m 132. And I was asking specifically about the house, but I’ve been told your community doesn’t get many new members, so I am slightly curious about your age as well, but I won’t push.’

With the majority of Emily's face being clear from rot and infection, Reid could see a slight blush on her cheeks, and she had lowered her eyes, ‘Oh. Um. I didn’t expect you to actually answer that. I feel mean now. Well, I’m around 60, time kinda feels the same though, so I might be a bit off. I hadn’t been a Skal long before we moved here; we had had two smaller houses before this one. It’s nicer here, though. The last place had these fireplaces that always brought a draught. It was awful.’

‘It does seem very nice here, what do you get up to?’

She shrugged. Unlike some Skals, she kept most of her hair, cropped around her jaw. ‘I do some gardening, I write as well. I have a blog I post to. Mostly movie reviews and TV shows.’ He hadn’t known what a blog was, but she had seemed quite proud of it. ‘Oh, Sean. Hi. Jonathan was just asking me about the house.’

Sean approached but remained quiet.

‘I apologise, Emily. Doctor Reid, Lewis is upstairs and said he’ll speak to you.’

Jonathan nodded, bidding Emily farewell, and followed Sean up the central staircase. He heard a muttered comment behind him: He never said he was a doctor…

‘I apologise, Sean. I’m impressed your flock has such a comfortable home, but I’m curious.’

Sean smiled slightly. ‘I can imagine. You’ve always had many questions, Doctor.’

At the top, Sean paused. ‘The house was purchased in 1967, it was bought by one of our members who sold their previous home, McCullum and me. We do have a basement, which leads to the underground. It’s more discreet for transportation of our… food. Now, if you would follow me.’

Jonathan received more information, but it only led to more questions. Perhaps Sean was right—he was nosy. 

They entered a small side room with two sets of bunk beds, a desk with a computer, and a small bookcase. Only one person was present: a lanky man with patchy blonde hair, most of his upper face covered in infection. ‘You must be Jonathan Reid. I’ve heard a lot about you.’

Jonathan sat opposite. ‘And you must be Lewis. It’s nice to meet another doctor.’ He glanced at Sean. ‘I hope you’ve heard good things.’

‘I mean, from your progeny, Doctor Swansea. I never practised medicine professionally. I was a theological biologist, studied at Derby.’

‘That was when you met Doctor Hussain?’

Lewis flinched. ‘Yes. He offered me work in his Cologne lab. Great money—because the lab was full of Skal corpses. First day, he showed me strange work; it took two more days before I believed vampires existed. I should have quit. Now look at me. I’ll never practice again or see my family.’

Jonathan couldn’t have imagined it; being turned into an Ekon had been awful and traumatic, but he could have gone to see his mother if he had wished. He could still have worked, and unless someone had the skills to spot an immortal, he could have walked amongst most mortals. Lewis hadn’t seemed to have had that luxury.

‘I’m sorry. May I ask a few more questions?’

‘Of course, Doctor.’

‘When did you meet Edgar, Doctor Swansea?’

Lewis shrugged, shoulders hunched. ‘A few years after starting there. He visited Kareem, Doctor Hussain, and it was the first time I met an Ekon. He wanted to work with us on a pregnant woman, Mia. Half-vampire child. It was killing her.’

Jonathan had read about dhampir children while helping during the pandemic. ‘I don’t believe that can happen. Edgar was hired by the mother’s family?’

‘No, I have no idea whether Mia’s family was involved. Swansea was hired by the father’s family, and they were very keen to learn as much as they could about the Dhampir. That’s why we were involved. Sadly, no one cared whether Mia lived. I tried my best, but I’m no midwife. In the end, I prioritised her comfort.’

‘So, you were focused on the mother’s care.’

Lewis had focused on the sleeve of his jumper, not wanting to make eye contact. ‘Kareem was focused on documenting the pregnancy. Doctor Swansea was focused on the foetus. Someone needed to keep the mother in mind.’

‘I assume Mia died.’

Fully closing his eyes then, ‘Yes, she died during childbirth. The child ripped open her womb, eating her while breaching. It was an awful sight. I kept pleading for them to allow a midwife to help, but neither of them wanted to explain vampirism to another mortal. It was heartbreaking. Truth being told, I’m extremely ashamed to be involved.’

Jonathan remained silent. Edgar should have allowed proper assistance.

‘The child was named Ella by her father. After birth, the three of us stayed involved. Ella grew extremely quickly, fully grown mentally and physically within a few years. I requested reassignment, then I was put on Skal documentation. I was infected shortly after. Edgar and Kareem experimented on the child while she grew. They studied vampire physiology, ageing, and stagnant DNA. I wasn’t involved, only heard reports.’

Jonathan had warned Edgar away from unethical experiments, especially regarding vampires. However, his warning had seemed to have waned over the previous years. Experimenting on a child had been unethical already, but using the results to consider the effects on mortals had been strictly against what they had agreed upon.

‘When I last saw Edgar, I had uncovered that he had been experimenting on vampire blood and healing qualities. This experiment had led to a vampire epidemic. Thousands had died. I had warned him not to do this again, it seems that he had forgotten our conversation.’

They had briefly discussed a few more details, specifically about any information Lewis might have had about the experiments post-birth, but it had been clear that he hadn’t been directly involved and had instead only heard reports from Doctor Hussain.

Jonathan thanked him before leaving and waved goodbye to Emily. At the door, Sean bid farewell. ‘Thank you for visiting, Doctor. It’s been lovely. You’re welcome here anytime.’

In the garden, McCullum, true to his word, had been waiting for him. The Skals, who had all given Jonathan a wide berth on his entrance, had seemed to swarm the hunter. While walking over, it had become clear why. McCullum had had his wrist cut and had seemed to be begrudgingly passing it from one hungry mouth to another.

‘I need to go now. No more.’ He had pulled the wrist away quickly, before anyone could grab it, and had pulled his sleeve up.

The Skals had been able to hear the message, even in the blood high, and had staggered away. Jonathan had allowed them to clear before saying, ‘I’ve spoken to Lewis, and it seems we’re making a trip to Germany.’

Chapter Text

McCullum told Reid they could walk to his house in around thirty minutes, less if they took a few shortcuts, or they could take the underground. After their awful experience earlier, Reid opted for the first option. It had now passed into late evening, and the more residential streets of London were quiet. They could shadow jump to a few of the shortcuts McCullum had previously mentioned.

They did not speak much during the journey, only when McCullum thought it was noteworthy to say how far away they were. It was a bit novel to be shadow jumping with someone else. Elisabeth did not leave the castle, and when he had lived in London previously, he had not been on good terms with most of the London Ekon community.

After around twenty minutes, they arrived at a terrace house. There was a silver car outside, with a small fenced front garden. Two large bay windows faced the street, one on the ground floor and another on the first floor. Geoffrey pulled a set of keys from his pocket and opened the door to let Jonathan inside.

There was a small metal fireplace in the front room with two sets of bookshelves on either side. Rather than a sitting room, it was being used as a library and office. The room was cream but featured wooden furniture. Towards the window stood a desk with a computer, and a mug beside it still held some coffee. Four tall bookcases lined the back wall, filled with hardbacks, paperbacks, and even books that were clearly from the early 1900s. It was a beautiful collection.

Jonathan noticed a shoe rack by the door and quickly slipped off his shoes. While Geoffrey locked the door behind them, he wandered to the bookshelves and skimmed through the collection. There were quite a lot of modern books, seemingly arranged by publication date, except for those on the shelves near the fireplace, which were all by the same publisher.

‘I never knew you were a reader.’

‘When we first met, I was too busy to read for pleasure. I wrote a lot of guides for our recruits and read a lot of reports, but nothing overly interesting.’ Taking off his own shoes, he continued, ‘I edit for a living, so I’ve just built up a collection, I suppose. I’ve got a lot of time on my hands.’

Jonathan turned. ‘Edit?’

McCullum walked into the next room, which was a more traditional sitting room, with two brown sofas on either wall, a small table in the centre, and a television on the other wall. ‘I’m an editor. The publisher I work for sends me manuscripts, and I edit them so they make sense and follow grammar rules. Then I send them back and get paid. Easy work.’

‘I just - I didn’t expect…’

‘That the huntsman knew how to read?’

That stumped him. ‘I knew you could read. I actually read a few of your notes when I was doing my investigation into the pandemic.’

‘A lot of recruits couldn’t, especially the younger ones. I made sure they could read and write. Any issues with spelling and grammar in reports, I would fix. Just a skill I picked up over the years.’ He shrugged. ‘There’s a spare room upstairs on the left, second door. Nothing much, but it’ll serve you for the day. The bathroom is next door. Head up. I’ll book us a plane for tomorrow.’

Jonathan lowered his head in thanks before walking upstairs with his bag and finding the room. It was simple enough, a box room with a single bed and a small bedside table. It had been a long day, and he had seen a lot. He was impressed by the Skal community he had seen. Their numbers were not large, but it seemed extremely peaceful, if isolated. McCullum had confirmed they were in all but name prisoners and were not allowed to roam, but that seemed similar to what he had seen back in 1919, if less formal.

He lowered himself onto the bed. Had Edgar really got himself involved with a dhampir child? Taken it upon himself to experiment on that child as well? In theory, what Lewis had said made sense. If the child grew exponentially quickly, it could teach them a lot about biomass growth and ageing. Monitoring it would be scientifically useful, but using that information, or worse, treating morals with your findings, could be a recipe for disaster. Some part of him knew after that last conversation with Edgar that he would not take to vampirism the way he hoped, and perhaps could not be trusted. But there had been so much going on, it was a small drop in an ocean.

Reid cast it from his mind for now and let himself rest.

The following night, Jonathan was informed that Geoffrey had bought them two plane tickets to Cologne, and they would need to leave within the hour. He offered his phone so Jonathan could call Elisabeth, as they did have access to a landline in the castle. He spoke to her briefly, explaining the reason he was travelling to Germany and that he should not be too long.

‘Oh, Jonathan… if your findings align with this story, will you really let Edgar die this time? I love you, but you can be ever so soft-hearted, especially with those close to you.’

He ended the conversation soon after, having agreed to let McCullum kill Edgar if what Lewis had told them was true. Hence, he assumed the hunter was so keen to get them to Germany, but in reality, he did have some soft spot for Edgar. It was why he had turned him in the first place. He had this damn hope that maybe if there was a second chance, he would do better.

McCullum said he would drive them to London City Airport, and after a short flight, they would arrive in Germany around ten in the evening local time. They left the house just after sunset.

He had seen some of the city briefly the previous night, but driving along the Thames was a nightlight show. There was a gondola system above the East Docks, and often he could see large passenger planes flying overhead, small lights blinking against the night. They drove between steel-lined buildings along the river and often alongside an overground line.

‘You’re lucky, Reid.’ Jonathan looked back in the car. He continued, ‘I only bought this car a few years ago. I had a bike before then.’

‘A motorcycle?’

McCullum nodded. ‘I live alone. Don’t really give anyone lifts.’ A small shrug. ‘I only bought the car because the bike was getting old. You don’t drive?’

Jonathan had owned a car previously, although after it started breaking down in the 1940s, he felt there was no need to replace it. He sold it a few years later as a vintage model, which was the first time he really broke their isolation. ‘Not for a long time. I probably wouldn’t know how to drive a modern car. I had a licence, but I never passed any tests. They weren’t needed then.’

The small talk ended after that, and only every so often, Jonathan asked general questions about London. Soon they arrived at a large car park. It did not take long before they reached the airport.

The entrance to the airport was slick silver with blue accents, a modern industrial design with multiple taxi ranks and bus stops. Before entering, Geoffrey pulled him to one side and took a cigarette from his pocket. The area where they had stopped had a few mortals smoking as well, although the airport was busy and loud enough that they would not be overheard. He lit his smoke, took a drag, and said, ‘The plane won’t be as busy as the underground. It won’t be shoulder to shoulder. I’ve also allocated our seats, so the only person you’ll be next to is me. But you’ll be on it for about an hour and a half. Obviously, there are no open windows. If you think you’re going to react like you did on the underground, I’m just letting you know you’ll need to pack it in.’

Jonathan accepted another smoke and brooded on what Geoffrey had just told him. He would be able to hold himself together. He had performed, admittedly poorly, surgery with Nurse Crane when he was a newborn. The shock of the underground, how quickly he had been confined, had taken him by surprise. But the consideration to warn him, placing him as far as possible from another person, was an unexpected kindness. This, alongside what he had seen with the Skals the previous night, was drawing a clearer image of his progeny.

He smiled slightly to himself. ‘Growing kind in your old age?’

McCullum’s expression soured. He scraped the cigarette on the side of the bin before throwing the end away. ‘Don’t be a twat, Reid. Let’s go.’

In the airport, Jonathan mostly kept his head down and followed McCullum through. Security was extremely tight, and the few vitals he had brought with him were quickly thrown away. He was told they had around thirty minutes before boarding and made his way to purchase a tea. He remembered the stale coffee on McCullum’s desk and bought him a drink as well.

While boarding the plane, Jonathan noticed that the inside was cramped, with two rows of three seats on each side. The seats were mostly bare, with thin cushions covered in dark grey leather. Jonathan had been assigned the window seat, with their row’s third seat left empty. ‘Good fortune we’ve got the whole row.’

McCullum did not answer, just placed his coffee on the small pull-down table and retrieved a grey softcover book from his bag. Before take-off, Jonathan keenly watched the safety demonstration from the cabin crew, which McCullum ignored.

The take-off was exhilarating and forceful. Jonathan made a mental note to tell Elisabeth all about it once he returned.

During the flight, Jonathan mostly kept himself busy watching the world pass below them from his small oval window, reading the magazine assigned to his seat, which featured a menu and several travel articles, and enjoying the smell of the tea he had brought. Quiet chatter filled the main body of the plane, with a few families laughing amongst themselves or playing card games.

McCullum mostly kept silent, taking a drop of his coffee occasionally and reading the book he had brought with him. In hindsight, Jonathan admitted that the thrill of flying and the excitement of travelling had made him slightly giddy. He hoped, quietly in the backroom of his mind, that perhaps if this new treatment for Elisabeth worked, they could experience this new world together.

‘What are you reading?’

‘The Long Take.’

‘I’ve never heard of it.’

‘It was published last year.’ McCullum offered no further information and went silent again afterwards.

Within the next half-hour, they had landed.

Surprisingly, security abroad was quicker than in London. True to his word, Geoffrey provided him with a passport that was unquestioned by the officers at border control. However, while queuing, with the hunter behind him, Jonathan felt it once more: the cold drip of ice along his spine, the same as the previous night. He turned and saw that Geoffrey was looking at him. Perhaps he felt it too. Before breaking eye contact, the feeling dissipated.

It took less than half an hour to get through the airport. Once through arrivals, Jonathan spotted a short, round mortal with thinning grey hair, in his late sixties, holding a small paper sign with ‘McCullum’ scrawled on it.

Geoffrey turned slightly and said, ‘The place I booked came with transportation from the airport.’

The two men made their way over. The mortal was wearing a check shirt, a black tie, and a large grey overcoat. After introducing themselves, the man quickly shook their hands with a firm grip and spoke with a thick German accent. ‘Yes, it’s lovely to meet you both. No suitcases? No worries. Just follow me to the car.’

They were taken to the car park, treading quickly to avoid the rain, where a large family car waited for them. There were small scratches on both sides, and on the boot was a large dent where the driver had clearly hit a tree or a wall.

Jonathan and Geoffrey took the two back seats while their driver, who had introduced himself as Josef Schrade, started the car.

‘The drive should only take twenty minutes, Sie. The city is lovely this time of year. Just quiet enough before the rush for the Christmas markets. You’ll be able to do all the sightseeing. Are you here for anything in particular?’

Jonathan leaned forward slightly, placing his hands on the seat in front of him. ‘We’re visiting an old friend. He works at the university.’

Mr Schrade smiled wider. ‘Visiting friends. Lovely. That sounds wonderful. I assume you’ll be going first thing tomorrow. We have good transport here. You could get a bus. When we get there, I’ll find the timetable. They take Euro or card.’

He was interrupted by McCullum, who said flatly, ‘We’ll be going this evening.’

‘Oh, Sie, it’s so late. I would not recommend it.’ Mr Schrade, with one hand on the wheel, shook his finger slightly. ‘It can be dangerous at night. Plus, the city is much prettier in the day.’

Jonathan replied, ‘Do you have crime at night?’

That caused Mr Schrade a slight hesitation. He brought both hands back to the wheel but never took his eyes from the road. ‘Don’t all major cities?’

Before Jonathan could continue his line of questioning, Mr Schrade parked the car in front of a tall building with several flats. He quickly jumped out and opened the door for both guests, then led them to the front door and handed them a key. ‘Your apartment is number three. I live in number two, and my neighbour is Yasmina Höfle. She lives in number one.’

Both men followed their host up the stairs. ‘I would ask you to keep any noise to a minimum. She is quite the personality. Now, if you have any questions, you have my number, or you can just knock. Check-out is at ten in the morning next Monday. Just put the key through the letterbox.’

McCullum had unlocked their door before Mr Schrade had finished. Jonathan thanked their host and followed Geoffrey inside.

‘He seemed charming.’

‘Chatty, you mean.’

Jonathan shrugged. Mr Schrade had talked a lot during their drive, but he had been friendly and professional. The apartment was small and open plan, as there was no entrance hall, and the front door led directly into the kitchen and living room. There were a few windows with blinds on the living room side, and a door to the left opened into a bathroom with a shower and toilet. A small wall behind the sofa separated the main living space from the bedroom, which had two single beds.

‘I thought an apartment would be better than a hotel. I didn’t realise it was part of a residential building. We’ll need to be polite about our comings and goings,’ McCullum admitted after inspecting the place quickly.

‘It’s more than serviceable. I slept in worse places during the pandemic.’

McCullum only nodded in reply while looking out the window towards the city. ‘If we get the bus, we can reach the university.’

Jonathan briefly looked to the hunter. This situation with Swansea was a mystery in itself, but he needed to know as much information as possible before heading into the belly of the beast, so to speak. McCullum had known Swansea was in the country even before Jonathan had told him in the cemetery.

However, it was only logical that he knew more. Now he had had time to think, the journey had given him space to reflect. The situation in London was confusing, to say the least. Sean was clearly enjoying his peace with the Skal community, happy to maintain his flock and keep to his space. McCullum, on the other hand, was a mystery.

‘Before we go, perhaps we could have a quick chat. No lies. I need to know as much as possible.’

Geoffrey rolled his eyes slightly, clearly unbothered by the slight rise in his maker’s voice. ‘Alright. Spit it out. Let’s get this over with.’

Chapter Text

Jonathan had not expected Geoffrey to so readily agree. He was so shocked that he did not quite know where to begin despite demanding truth and conversation. As self-serving as it may be, Jonathan found himself curious about McCullum’s opinion on the situation at hand. He seemed as prickly as he had been when they first met, talked about executing the skals, and brushed off any notion that he had sympathy. Yet actions spoke a different message.

‘Why do you truly let the skals live in London? Their numbers are so small now. No ekons are creating more. I do not understand why you allow it.’

McCullum leaned against the windowsill.

‘You asked that before, in the cemetery.’

‘Yes, but it does not make sense. Back in the 1920s, that was understandable. The skal numbers were unknown and growing, and having them under control worked in your favour. I do not understand why you continue.’

‘Did you not force vampirism on me to make me see things from a different point of view?’

He pulled out a chair from the dining table, sat, and placed his palm on the surface. Jonathan looked up at his progeny from where he was sitting.

‘You still performed the Second Great Hunt despite that. I must admit, what I have seen has been a kindness to the community there, but I am not naïve enough to believe you have changed so much.’

McCullum looked away.

‘At the time, the number of skals was huge. Even after you stopped the spread of the disease. The skals were feral, would kill or just create more skals. It was not long after you left, not even a month. I got cocky. Caught by two ekons, I think they were tourists. I think I took one out, but not before the second clipped me.’

He took a breath, pausing slightly before continuing.

‘I had to flee, almost got caught in the sun. Sean offered me shelter, and when I woke up the next night, I figured out that there was an underground passage. I knocked him down and went to investigate. I found the sewer skals there.’

‘Did you kill them?’

He shook his head.

‘No. Sean followed me and told me they were just living there in peace. The majority of them died from Ms Jones, but skals always needed somewhere to go. He provided them with bodies to eat. I had read reports of non-feral skals, ones who never went feral at all. Sean told me you forced him to drink your blood and that it cured him of his hunger. Ironic, you gifted your blood to him as a cure, and the same to curse me. Lucky bastard.’

Jonathan furrowed his brows. So McCullum had met the sewer skals and spared them. It was kind of him to do so. He most likely did not think he could take so many of them on at once, but he had not given a reason why he left them in the long run.

‘You spared them. Why?’

‘Because it felt stupid not to.’ Geoffrey’s voice picked up slightly, speaking faster now that the topic had changed.

‘I saw the war. It is foolish to fight a war on two fronts. When I saw the sewers, I realised what it was. Ekons and skals may both be vampires, but they are not unified. They are actually opposing sides. And an enemy of my enemy—’

‘Is my friend,’ Jonathan finished.

Geoffrey locked eyes with him again.

‘My goal with the second hunt was to make the streets safe again and to eliminate the elite ekon community.’

That made sense. It was logical that this would be the main goal. Jonathan had been told by Edgar, Talltree, and Elisabeth that the first Great Hunt was focused on the ekon community, especially elder vampires. He supposed that the focus on street safety was a by-product of the epidemic.

‘So you decided to let the skals go to focus on the bigger enemy.’

McCullum pulled away from the window, shook his head, and continued.

‘No, you are not thinking about this correctly. Who would know who the ekons are, who would know where they hunt, who would not care to give them up?’

Jonathan’s eyes widened.

‘You mean the skals. You allowed them to live because they would sell out the ekons who turned them and abandoned them.’

‘Exactly.’

There was elation in his voice now, a slight enjoyment in speaking to someone who understood.

‘Skals are an unfortunate by-product of ekons. Tell me, doctor, if someone is suffering from an illness, is it better to treat the symptoms or to treat the infection?’

‘The infection, but you should—’

‘Manage the symptoms,’ Geoffrey finished for him.

‘You get it. I saw in those sewers an opportunity. The Brotherhood, for all their talk of collaboration for vampire kind, do not give two shits about skals. Their lives are short, and the people turned are typically normal men. Normal information. Why talk to a skal when you could talk to an elder vampire?’

He continued, pacing slightly across the room.

‘But if I could promise skals peace and protection from ekons, they would sell them out in a heartbeat.’

He snapped his fingers.

‘Like that. I left that night and thought about it. I concluded that I did not have the manpower to fight both the skals and the ekons, and I needed to decide which front to prioritise. That week, I went onto the streets, picked as many fights with beasts and ekons as I could manage. Drank myself full. I went back to the skals and offered my blood to them for their collaboration.’

Bridget had told Jonathan many times that skals craved ekon blood to the point of pain and insanity. To offer them such salvation was manipulative at best.

‘And they fell into line?’

Geoffrey stopped pacing.

‘Of course they did, and it worked beautifully. Sean was a bleeding heart and took as many skals as he could. The news spread that if you were prepared to give up information on ekons and keep off the streets, you could be cured of your hunger. And on the other side, it led to fewer skals on the street, fewer people being turned. It worked. Within a few months, streets were almost peaceful at night, people reopened pubs, and that summer after the epidemic was glorious. And we did it without hundreds of our own men being killed. All that manpower saved for the true enemy.’

Jonathan had to admit, it was a masterful move. Geoffrey had keenly recognised that there was no unified vampire front, that cleaning the streets of the skal population was a waste of manpower. But if that was true, he must have needed to change the Guard’s philosophy on the extermination of vampire kind.

‘And the Guard allowed this? Isn't what you are proposing against the key tenets of your organisation’s ideology?’

A look of confusion drew over Geoffrey’s face.

‘What do you think differentiates the Brotherhood from the Guard?’

Jonathan shrugged, ‘I assumed collaboration with leeches.’

‘In a way, yes, but also no. Kendall Stone believed the Brotherhood had become complicit with, specifically, elder vampires. He also felt the Brotherhood had become stagnant.’

‘I do not understand.’

Geoffrey stopped for a moment, brewing the thoughts in his head.

‘The Brotherhood only allows specific individuals membership. Those individuals cannot be vampires when admitted, but do not lose membership if turned. They must also be highly educated and considered somewhat elite in their field.’

‘That makes sense. Edgar explained that the Brotherhood was interested in education and sharing knowledge.’

‘Kendall believed this was against human survival and protection. That this complicity openly allowed humans to be food, for the Brotherhood’s own academic pursuit. That pursuit was accessible only to the highly educated, which meant the elite. When Kendall brought this up as a critique to try and change the Brotherhood, he was denied and expelled.’

Jonathan interrupted him.

‘That is a lie. I was told that Stone left the Brotherhood after disagreeing with their identity and wanted to take the organisation towards a militaristic operation.’

Geoffrey did not answer him; instead just looked at him, eyes cutting and hard.

‘And who told you that?’

‘I— I mean, well, Edgar did.’

Now that he said it aloud, he heard how hypocritical that sounded. Of course Edgar would put things in a light that benefited the Brotherhood.

‘But that being said, I do not understand what this has to do with your original point.’

Jonathan watched him pull back slightly, and the hardness evaporated.

‘You asked me not to lie, Jonathan, but I do not want to give someone else’s secrets away.’

‘You can trust me. I am trusting you with Elisabeth’s location. I have trusted you to leave us be. Does that not count for something?’

Geoffrey allowed them to sit in silence for a few moments, allowed himself time to truly consider whether he trusted Reid with this.

‘The biggest difference between the Guard and the Brotherhood, especially then, is that the Guard is not a dictatorship. We value the idea of passing on the torch, especially to someone different from ourselves, someone who represents the next generation. Kendall chose Carl because he appreciated the concept of recruiting people from different communities. Whether they were poor, foreign, or female, it did not matter. When I took over leadership, I made it my mission to bring the Guard into the twentieth century. I helped with the development of weapons and management. The war meant that the people we recruited understood the chain of command, how to fire a gun, and how not to flinch at death.’

‘No, wait. What secret, then, was that the Brotherhood was a dictatorship? But that is not true either. Talltree was the Primate at that time. Edgar wanted to take over, that is not a dictatorship.’

Another pause, this one longer.

‘Oh God, Geoffrey, you still believe Talltree was a vampire.’

‘He was.’

Jonathan stood then, his voice rising.

This was ridiculous.

‘No, he was not. I met the man multiple times. He was mortal. I know I was a newborn, but I could spot another immortal.’

‘You do not understand. He was a vampire. He had been for centuries. He was the dictator of the Brotherhood. He controlled the whole organisation, expelled anyone who bid for leadership or criticised or wanted change. That was why Edgar’s push for leadership was so controversial.’

Jonathan turned around, unable to believe he had entertained this conversation, only for it to circle back to this.

‘You admitted yesterday that Talltree died. You told me that.’

‘I lied. After the vampire community had been eradicated from England, Talltree fled. I spoke to him before he left. I agreed to help falsify his death.’

‘Say I believe you, and I do not.’ He closed his eyes, pressing his fingers to his temple.

‘Why would you do that if Talltree was this elder vampire dictator of the Brotherhood?’

The reply was sharp, almost demanding.

‘Look at me, Reid.’

‘I do not—’

‘Turn around and look at me!’

And so he did. Jonathan turned back around and looked at McCullum, standing with his back to the window, hands curled by his side.

‘What now?’

‘Do I look like an immortal to you?’

A quick inhale, shocked at the question.

‘Well, of course.’

But while saying that, Jonathan looked. Truly looked at his progeny. The slightly blue tint to his skin that he had seen during their conversation a hundred years ago was gone. There were no visible veins around his eyes or temples. His skin was even slightly flushed pink, as if the heat from the room was getting to him.

‘I mean…’

‘Do not lie, Reid. I do not look like an immortal, and if you did not know I was one, you would not be able to tell.’

And finally, as if he had noticed a picture frame slightly askew, Jonathan realised. The thump. Immortals’ hearts did beat, although slowly, like a death rattle. A careful push of blood around the body. Whereas a mortal’s heart beats fast, the engine of the human body forcing life through it.

Geoffrey’s heart did not beat in time with Jonathan’s. It had not yesterday either. How had he not noticed until now?

‘I do not understand.’

‘I am not as skilled at it as Talltree was. He could even make it look like he was ageing, or could completely change his appearance, but he taught me enough.’

No, that did not make sense. If what Geoffrey was saying was true, Talltree would have been older than Elisabeth, older than Redgrave, perhaps even older than Marshall. But had his maker not said that Edgar had no idea what powers were at play in the Brotherhood?

‘How? How are you doing that?’

Geoffrey’s harsh look remained, but there was a slight sadness in his eyes.

‘It is a skill. You have to work at it, the same as learning any vampire ability. Talltree said being able to use the ability is due to our diet, our mentality. The same way some skals can learn how to shadow jump or become beasts.’

Jonathan listened, not interrupting as Geoffrey explained that Talltree had taught him that some skals may evolve into different forms of their own vampiric branch, and ekons could do the same. If an ekon refused human blood completely, feeding only on their own brethren’s blood and their internal hate for their kind, they could develop abilities that other vampires could not. Such as the ability to hide their nature even from other vampires, to completely change their appearance, or to age their bodies. Although he did specify he could not use the latter two abilities himself.

‘A nimrod?’

Geoffrey stopped.

‘Yes, that is what he called it. A biblical hunter.’

‘I read about that so briefly. I thought it was a myth.’

‘Doesn’t feel like a myth.’

Jonathan was still somewhat speechless.

He muttered, ‘Can you walk in the sun? The small text I found mentioned that it was a possibility.’

And how envious he would be if he could. Being banished into the dark was one of the key curses of vampirism, next to the unholy thirst. To escape both seemed like a blessing.

A sigh.

‘No. Although Talltree said he could. Being honest, I am not well-fed enough to even consider trying. You saw London. There is no food there for me.’

‘So how do you do it?’ Jonathan knew that existing with the hunger was a reality for vampires of stronger lineage. He could do it, and Elisabeth could do it for a time.

‘I just suffer, Reid. Is that what you want to hear? Do not think this is a kindness. If anything, it is worse. I hunger for the blood of everyone I meet. Vampires, humans, skals. I thirst for all of it. I am not well-fed enough, or old enough, to try and walk in the sun.’

His voice was soft, almost a whisper.

‘Occasionally, ekons try and visit the city, some sort of morbid curiosity, and make for easy prey. But it has been years, and many of the ekons who do visit are weak-blooded. The Guard have rarely asked for me to take out a specific target, and they have not asked for decades now.’

Jonathan laughed slightly.

‘So the Brotherhood is no longer a dictatorship as Talltree fled, but now the Guard is. Poetic.’

‘I have not been leader of the Guard since 1931, which, being realistic, is probably when I would have stepped down as a mortal.’

The silence drew for a few minutes. Jonathan needed time to digest the information. There was a good chance that the story he had been told of the Guard and the Brotherhood was not exactly the truth either. The actual truth was most likely somewhere in the middle, but Jonathan did not have the tools or patience to work out where that middle was now.

‘Do you have any other questions, Jonathan?’

Jonathan took an unneeded breath, two.

Then, finally said, ‘Is the Guard active here?’

‘Yes, the Guard is currently led by Cerberus, and part of that leadership hub is in Germany. There is a similar agreement here with the skals as there is in London. After the success we found during the Great Hunt, we kept that agreement, and it is implemented in nearly every major city in Europe where the Guard is stationed.’

He hesitated.

‘I have not technically been a member of the Guard since 1931, when I fully stepped down as leader. Over the years, I have been given different names. Adviser, consultant, hire. But I am not a member. I have had no sway over the organisation since then. I provide blood for the skal communities around the continent.’

Jonathan nodded.

‘I think our discussion has ended for today. I hope we can continue to be truthful going forward.’

Geoffrey pulled on his jacket, which he had left on one of the two single beds.

‘Then let us get moving.’

Jonathan asked for a second alone before meeting Geoffrey outside. The hunter simply dipped his head and left silently. In the dead silence of the apartment, with raindrops hitting the windows, it finally dawned on him.

He had severely underestimated Geoffrey McCullum. It was easy, as a newborn, to simply believe everything Edgar told him. McCullum was a war dog, a huntsman, an uneducated brute leading other thugs into a fake war. He had turned him into a vampire as some sort of personal grudge, finally making amends.

Instead, he learned that Edgar had created the epidemic. Jonathan had run around London, fought Doris Fletcher, just for McCullum to figure it out before him. It was only logical to think Reid had been involved, as the timing and his own expertise were too coincidental. Jonathan even remembered how absurd he thought McCullum was for demanding answers about William Marshall, but he was right. God, he was right. Elisabeth's blood, the blood of hate, went back to Marshall.

Was this his fault, he thought to himself. Edgar and Elisabeth had both expressed worry about granting McCullum immortality, and he had brushed it off. Fled the city. Allowed McCullum the power and the vacuum to enact his own twisted vampiric martial law on the city and on the whole country.

Jonathan did not know. He did not agree with how the Skals were treated, nor did he agree with Lord Redgrave and his blood purity ideals. But did he agree with mass execution either? Most likely not. He needed to speak to Swansea, he decided. Sort out the problem at hand before splitting hairs on an issue that happened over fifty years ago.

He walked out of the apartment, locked the door behind him, and as he walked down the stairs, saw that the door to apartment one was slightly ajar. A pair of eyes belonging to an old woman stared out at him. He heard her whisper, ‘Ghul,’ then she slammed the door closed.

Geoffrey had been waiting outside, smoking, when Jonathan finally joined him, and he had his phone out. They decided that it would be easier to take the thirty-minute walk than to get a bus. Neither man talked while walking through the city. Jonathan took notice that while Cologne was big, it was not the same sprawling mess that London was. There were a few clubs open, a few dancers and smokers outside enjoying the music and the chill November air.

Halfway through their walk, down a quieter side street, the two men were passed by another gentleman. The man was dressed smartly, and only once they were a few metres from each other did Jonathan notice this was another Ekon. The man gave Jonathan a small nod in acknowledgement, but completely ignored Geoffrey.

Once they had passed him, Geoffrey stopped and looked over his shoulder. ‘I’ll meet up with you shortly. You just need to follow this road. If you get lost, stay on the corner. I won’t be long,’ he said before he dissolved into shadows and jumped after their passerby.

Part of Jonathan wanted to stop him, as they had no idea who that man was other than that he was Ekon. Instead, all he thought of was their conversation. I just suffer, Reid.

Geoffrey joined him soon after, both happy to ignore what had just happened. Although Jonathan could see that the other man's eyes were dilated. His hands had a slight shake, but both would pass by the time they reached the university.

Chapter Text

Once they arrived, they were greeted with a large open courtyard. The grey and black slabs drew out words but were obstructed due to heavy rain, and were slowly on the way to being flooded. The main building at the heart of the courtyard was four stories and had light brown brickwork. At the entrance stood a tall man, wearing a security uniform, but he was otherwise alone.

Jonathan walked towards him and offered a small smile, ‘Good evening, I understand you’re probably closed, but we’re here to see a friend who works at the department. I believe he should be expecting us.’

The man didn’t offer a smile in return, simply inspected both men. ‘Even so, sir. We do not allow visitors this late at night. You should leave.’

McCullum simply huffed.

‘I apologise.’ Jonathan merely replied and took a step closer to the man.

‘Nothing to apologise for, sir. Simply go home and come back tomorrow.’

‘No. I meant for this, ' he offered, quickly grabbing the security guard with his left hand, dragging his ear towards him, and demanding, ‘You will allow us entry and you will not tell anyone we were here.’

The guard's eyes were wide, unblinking. His mouth opened a few times without muttering. Before flatly replying, ‘Yes. Go right ahead.’ Then he staggered back and unlocked the door. Jonathan entered, but not before McCullum asked, ‘Is anyone else patrolling tonight?’

The security guard did not make eye contact, body swaying, ‘No. Not in this building.’

Geoffrey nodded before following Jonathan into the department.

The majority of lights were motion sensitive, and when walking through, illuminated a classic style hallway. It led to multiple different lecture rooms and seminar spaces, and featured a broad wooden staircase. Jonathan quickly surveyed the building, and there was no one on the ground floor. However, when he looked up, he could briefly see one heartbeat on the second floor.

‘There is someone upstairs.’

Geoffrey followed his line of sight, ‘Seems to be just them, might be easier to ask them where this doctor is or where he works.’

Both men took the stairs to the second floor. This area was more modern than what was previously seen. There were multiple laboratories on either side, some closed off and others featuring large viewing windows. While walking down, Jonathan checked the panels next to each door, which seemed to list the doctors who were assigned the space. None seemed to feature Hussain or Swansea, but Edgar may have taken a new name.

Jonathan looked ahead and saw that Geoffrey was peeking through a nearby viewing window. Inside the lab, there was a slender woman with dark skin and long hair. She was wearing a standard lab coat with a pair of goggles around her neck. She seemed interested in a small blood vital in front of her and hadn’t noticed the two men behind the window.

‘Do you want to take the lead with questioning?’

‘Why do you ask that?’

Geoffrey shugged with a slight smile, ‘You’re normally so good at it, Doctor.’

He rolled his eyes, moved past the hunter and knocked. The red heart on the other side jumped slightly before coming over to the door. Jonathan quickly reverted his vision to see the young woman unblot the door, and before he could say anything, two shots rang out.

Sharp pain filled his right upper chest, and he brought a hand to the wound and quickly drew blood into the area to heal the damage. Croached slightly, he was prepared to leap out of the way, but before he could, he saw Geoffrey jump in front and grab the gun while it was still in her hand, and used his strength to point it at the ceiling.

‘You should have gone for the forehead, but there is no need for that now.’ And ripped the weapon from her grasp. ‘We’re just here to ask a few questions.’

The woman took a few steps back, eyes trained on Jonathan. He drew himself up and quickly checked to make sure his injuries were mostly healed before saying, ‘I apologise for startling you. We’re just here to ask a few questions.’

‘I don’t answer the questions of Vampires.’ She sharply replied.

Geoffrey was admiring the gun in his hands and muttered, ‘So much for doing it the easy way.’

Jonathan only brought his hands up in surrender, ‘We’re looking for Dr Kareem Hussain, do you know him?’

The woman kept her eyes forward, but put her left hand towards a nearby desk, knocked a few items off, and went to grab a vital, which fell onto the ground and smashed. Jonathan and Geoffrey both scrunched their nose at the smell, harsh and foul, and made their eyes water.

She squealed slightly, noticing now she was weaponless as her eyes briefly flicked downwards to the broken glass.

Geoffrey pocketed the gun and pushed Jonathan back slightly. ‘You work for Priwen. This is one of their guns?’

Jonathan leaned towards the other man and whispered, ‘She doesn’t seem to be a fighter anyway. Those shots weren’t accurate at all.’

The woman's eyes widened, ‘Then you know if you let that man kill me, you’ll be swarmed by Hunters.’

‘No one is going to kill anyone. If I give you back this gun, will you answer our questions?’

Jonathan went silent, happy to let Geoffrey take the lead as he was unsure if he would seem more trustworthy due to his more mortal appearance.

‘Give me the gun first, and we’ll see.’ She put her hand out, expectantly.

A chuckle then, ‘Not yet, you work for Hopfner? Maybe Krawczyk, if you’re part of his science division, I doubt Ulusoy would have you. She wouldn’t tolerate that poor shooting anyway.’

Her eyes widened then, ‘You know of Dr Krawczyk? Have you brought this vampire as a test subject?’

Jonathan was confused at these names, as he hadn’t heard of any of them before, but now that he was slightly closer, he could see that the woman was quite young. Most likely still studying herself, had deep eye make-up and a small nose piercing. Before McCullum could continue, he asked, ‘Dr Krawczky? Is that a Polish name?’

Geoffrey ignored him, ‘No, we’re here to ask about Dr Hussain. Do you know him?’

She seemed slightly braver then, drew her spine up and demanded, ‘And who are you? I’m not giving over any information until you confirm your identity.’

‘Geoffrey McCullum, and my associate is Jonathan Reid.’

Jonathan didn’t know whether it was wise to allow this woman to know their identity, but if she was a Guard member, then perhaps it was safer to let them know who they were to prevent any investigation.

‘Mr… Mr McCullum.’ She stuttered slightly, ‘I’ve read your reports from the 1920s! I’ve studied your blood samples… I’m so sorry. Please. Come in. I’m Khushi Chahal.’

Geoffrey entered first and handed the gun back to the young scientist.

‘I was not informed you were visiting Germany. Mr Hopfner did not mention anything.’

Jonathan entered the laboratory next. It was cramped, with a small grey desk in the centre and multiple pieces of equipment on waist-height surfaces that lined the room. On the right side, opposite the door, there was a collection of vitals all featuring blood. Some were labelled, but most were left plain.

Geoffrey had taken to leaning against the desk, while Khushi had retaken her seat on the stool.

‘This is a more personal visit. We’re investigating Kareem Hussain and Edgar Swansea.’

Ms Chahal had taken to swinging her legs on the stool, hair wrapped around her finger, ‘Well, I know who Dr Swansea is, of course. He’s the leech scientist, works for the council. He visits now and again. Mr Hopfner asks me to keep away from him while I do my work, and just report his location. Mr Hussain…’

‘Wait, ’ Jonathan interrupted, ‘What council, and sorry, who is Mr Hopfner? Geoffrey mentioned that name before?’

Khushi only smirked slightly, ‘The leech council? You know? The Council of the Road? Yeah, Swansea works for them, only comes here when he needs equipment basically.’

Jonathan didn’t think the response was explanatory enough and turned towards Geoffrey for explanation.

‘The Council of the Road is the Ekon collective of Europe and is the biggest in the world. The Ascalon Club were like a sister organisation, but for the British Isles.’

He nodded in response, ‘And Mr Hopfner, and the Polish name you mentioned before, who are they?’

Khushi continued to swing her legs and took to inspecting her nails, which were long and painted neon pink. ‘I don’t give out Priwen information to a leech, sorry, not sorry.’

Jonathan mentally notes that Mr Hopfner and Dr Krawczky were both Priwen associated, and if what was mentioned earlier was any indication were perhaps regional leaders or higher names. He’ll ask Geoffrey when they are alone.

‘So, Swansea is working for this council, but what of Dr Hussain?’

‘Yeah, I know him, studied on Skals. Got in a lot of trouble back in the eighties, he died though.’

Jonathan leaned forward then, hands placed on the desk. ‘When? When did he die?’

Khushi pulled out a laptop from a bag leaning on the desk and started typing, ‘Let me see, it seems he died in 2014. I know a few people who knew him, wasn’t a leech himself, just obsessed with them. Weirdo.’

Jonathan furrowed his brows and clenched his hands on the desk. That was five years ago, but Sean had stated multiple times that Lewis was a recent arrival in London. ‘How long ago did you meet Lewis in London, Geoffrey?’

He shrugged, ‘About five or six months ago. I’m not sure when he told Sean about Swansea, I don’t stick around for conversation.’

Jonathan pulled back from the desk and considered that information. Lewis hadn’t mentioned that Dr Hussain had died at all, but he must have been dead for a few years before Lewis became a Skal. If that wasn’t the case, Lewis would not have been coherent enough to make the drive to London, and Geoffrey wouldn’t have offered his blood to a skal who had already gone feral.

He turned back at Khushi, ‘Do you know about his experiments?’

She shrugged, ‘Nah, I was transferred after he died. Never met the guy. Only heard rumours, he retired back in like the late nineties, or something. Only came back for occasional seminars.’

‘Any rumours about a pregnant woman he was helping?’

Her eyes widened slightly, ‘God no, we have nothing here to help with a pregnancy. That’s a completely different building.’

‘And Swansea, when did you last see him?’

She pondered for a moment, ‘Three weeks ago, came by for some electrophoresis apparatus gel.’

Geoffrey, who was still leaning on the desk, asked then, ‘And what’s that for?’

‘It’s to help separate DNA, mostly for sampling.’

It was good that Geoffrey asked, as Jonathan hadn’t heard of the substance before. But it did indicate the DNA experimentation Lewis spoke about. Perhaps Lewis continued working at the lab after Dr Hussain died and got infected later.

He took a breath. He had received some answers and perhaps a lead. ‘If you see Swansea again, could you let Geoffrey know?’

She shrugged, ‘I can see what I can do.’

‘And lastly, you live here, correct? You said Edgar works for the Council of the Road, this Vampire organisation. Are they based here? What is the vampire situation here like?’

‘Unfortunately, they are based in the city.’ A sigh, ‘I’m not in the Eradication division, so I’m not really involved. But there are ekons active here, we try to keep them at bay, but people do go missing. Skals are rarer, either killed by their makers or join our communities. If they do last long enough to start attacking the public, then they’re easy work.’

More Skal communities, just like what he saw in London.

He nodded to the young woman, ‘Thank you, you’ve been helpful.’

She only shrugged in response, but said to Geoffrey once they took their leave, ‘I’ll let Mr Hopfner know you’ve left London, Sir.’

Geoffrey paused, hand on the doorknob, ‘I’ll speak to him myself,’ before closing the door. Both men left the building shortly afterwards, and the guard at the entrance ignored them.

Once out of earshot, Jonathan stopped, ‘Dr Hussain has been dead for over five years, that doesn’t make sense. Did Lewis tell you anything about that?’

‘I didn’t even know Lewis had mentioned Swansea until you showed up.’

He had hoped that coming to the university would be a quick investigation, but it was slightly dawning on Jonathan that this situation was more complicated than he initially believed. What Khushi told him about the gel Edgar needed did indicate that he was studying DNA, at least.

Jonathan turned towards Geoffrey, ‘And who is Mr Hopfner? Is he part of Priwen leadership here?’

He frowned, ‘It’s a bit complicated. The Guard is not purely a militaristic force anymore. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but that wouldn’t work across the continent, not in 2019. Arthur Hopfner works as the head of the administrative branch; he deals with people, finance. His office is in the city.’

‘Have you met him?’ They moved to the wall of a nearby building to hide slightly from the rain.

‘A long time ago, he was very young then. I’ve not actually spoken to him since, never had any need to.’

‘And what of Krawczyk, the Polish man?’

‘I can’t remember what they called his department, another man I’ve never had any reason to meet. As far as I know, he covers the archive and relics, runs a science department where they make weapons, and test chemicals.’ Geoffrey lit a cigarette after that, face squinted slightly. ‘In my opinion, they’ve made it all too complicated. I’m a vampire under Priwen Law, so technically I fall under Hopfner, who handles the boring admin. But I’ve only ever spoken to Yosma Ulusoy, who deals with the militaristic missions. The few times I’ve spoken to her, she swears in Turkish at me.’

Jonathan allowed a second to see if he would continue, ‘But Cerberus runs it all? That is what you said earlier, in the apartment.’

Geoffrey allowed a long plume of smoke to float from his lips, ‘Something like that. Overcomplicated.’

The silence hung between them, and Jonathan agreed on some level. Priwen of 1918 was a lot simpler, and from what Khushi and Geoffrey had explained, this new 2019 Priwen had fully embraced the modern age. An admin department? For vampire hunters? How mundane.

‘I do need to speak to Edgar. Perhaps some of the ekons in the city have heard of him, or this Council of the Road.’

‘I need to speak to Hopfner anyway. If I go alone, I might be able to get some information from him. I’ll meet you back at the apartment before sunrise.’ A small shrug then, ‘And I won’t be tempted to kill any of the ekons you try to question.’

Chapter Text

After leaving Geoffrey, Jonathan decided to head back into the heart of the city, as it was more likely to have ekons he could speak to. He walked slowly down the streets towards the centre, allowing himself time to notice any street names or notable buildings to help him signpost his location. It would be extremely embarrassing to be caught in the sun simply because he got lost.

Once he arrived in the main courtyard, it was past midnight. The streets were mostly quiet at this hour, with a few partygoers and workers returning home. He allowed his vision to grey, noticed a few heartbeats around him and thought, If I were hunting, where would I go?

He strained his vision and saw a large gathering of heartbeats underground, around two hundred metres away. On the walk over, he noticed that the majority of mortals on the streets seemed to be leaving from this underground gathering. There was no major entrance, only a single door with a large man outside and a long queue along the left side. Before he could approach the man at the door, a hand rested on his shoulder.

‘Cousin, how lovely to see you again. I don’t believe this location is friendly to our kind. Perhaps you should go somewhere else.’

Jonathan quickly turned to face the voice. It belonged to a tall man with dark hair, dressed in a sharp black suit. ‘Cousin?’ he replied.

‘Don’t you remember me, friend? We met in London during the epidemic.’

His eyes widened. He did remember Mr Florimond. He was the ekon who targeted Ms Emily in the West End. The French tourist had visited the city to see the fall of London himself, a twisted fascination. In hindsight, he must have been slightly disappointed.

‘Yes, I apologise. I didn’t expect to see you here.’

Jacques only patted him on the shoulder before pulling him away from the club. ‘I thought you had died, you see. After what happened with the epidemic and then the nasty trouble afterwards. Ekons disappear all the time now. But it is good to see you. How have you been?’

Jonathan briefly looked back towards the group of mortals, but decided to drop the lead. He had found an ekon, and maybe Mr Florimond knew about this Council of the Road.

‘I have been well.’ He pulled his shoulder from the grasp. ‘I have been living with a very close friend. We have kept to ourselves over the last hundred years.’

Both men continued to walk. Jacques nodded. ‘Yes, I see. I assume you have been staying on the continent. Makes sense, the British Isles are hell now. I hear there is a nasty guard dog there. I had a cousin, you know, a young man from America. I told him the Isles were not somewhere he would like to visit, but what do I know?’ He laughed. ‘He went anyway, called me within the first hour he arrived in Birmingham. Said he was going to see some of the villages nearby. I never heard from him again.’ A slight pause. ‘Dead, of course. Very sad.’

Jonathan did not respond to the story of his American ekon, as he knew his fate even without asking. Geoffrey had explained what happened to the weak-blooded ekons who visited the country. It would be extremely rude and unbeneficial to tell Jacques that this ekon had been food for his own progeny, the so-called guard dog.

‘I have heard. I’m actually in Germany to see a friend. Perhaps you could help me?’

‘Yes. I have an offer for you, too, cousin. But first, your friend? He lives here in Cologne?’

Jonathan nodded. ‘I’ve been told he works here. He might have changed his name, but he was Edgar Swansea. I’m sure he mentioned me.’

‘Dr Swansea! Yes, I am very familiar. We work together, you know. You should have said you were looking for your progeny.’

So Mr Florimond worked for the Council of the Road as well. He wondered then how many ekons were involved with the Council. The Ascalon Club’s membership, as far as he was aware, was not massive but notable. If this Council were a sister organisation, would its numbers be similar?

‘He doesn’t know I’m in town, unfortunately. I was hoping I could catch him for a chat.’

Jacques stopped walking and turned to face him fully. ‘How lucky we are, Dr Reid. That offer I spoke of, you should join us. Dr Swansea and I both work for the Council of the Road. I assume you know of it.’ He stopped and looked over his shoulder. ‘Ah, but it is not a good place for such a conversation. Come with me. I know somewhere we can speak.’

Jonathan had no choice but to agree. If Jacques was a member, then it would be the quickest and easiest way to speak to Edgar and learn more about this Council. He bowed his head. ‘Is this place nearby?’

‘Yes, cousin. Only ten minutes from here. We can talk more on the way,’ Jacques replied and led him towards a nearby road.

‘It is better to travel in numbers anyway, cousin. I saw you earlier, you know. I was going to speak to you, but you were with a mortal. I didn’t want to disrupt your hunt, so I left you be.’

The rain had slowed slightly, no longer flooding the streets, but still a wet mist. Jonathan wrapped his coat around himself a little tighter to protect himself from the cold. He replied, ‘Yes, I thought I could catch Edgar at the university,’ and added no more, no need to contradict what the other man saw.

‘That makes sense.’ He nodded. ‘But these are dark times, cousin. I had been similar to you, kept to myself in France. But I lost all four of my progeny, you know. My friends. I had known them for a long time. Is it just Edgar for yourself?’

Jonathan allowed himself a subtle pause, unsure of how much to disclose. Edgar knew Geoffrey was his progeny as well. There was also Sean, however much he counted, and Mary. That pressure returned on his heart, the grief he had grown around pulsated in his chest and reminded him of his loss.

‘I have two living progeny.’

Jacques did not look at him, just continued forward. ‘Edgar will be pleased to hear he has a blood sibling somewhere. He did not mention he had any before.’

Ah, a slight embarrassment from Edgar then. Surely he knew Geoffrey was still alive, even Banned from England. He must have heard what happened with the Second Great Hunt. But Edgar could not stand Geoffrey even when they were both mortal. He could only assume the latter’s actions during the years following the epidemic had only worsened the feeling.

Jonathan chose not to reply and allowed Jacques to fill the silent street with light chatter. The conversation went slightly dry, as the other ekon spoke about fashion or wine choices.

The streets became barer as their walk continued, and the houses became large buildings of flats with occasional shops. After around ten minutes, Jacques led him to the remains of a large house that had suffered a significant fire. Only bricks remained, stained with large ash clouds. The fire could not have been too long ago, a month or two at the most. Jacques led him deeper into the house, towards the remains of the staircase.

Underneath the staircase, there was a door. Jacques knocked three times before it was opened by a vulkod. He was as large as every other one Jonathan had met, bald-headed with round features. The nose was broken in a few places and pointed at a strange angle.

‘Mr Florimond, welcome back. I see you have brought an acquaintance.’ He spoke in a thick German accent, his eyes trained on Jonathan.

Jacques seemed uninterested in the appraisal. ‘Yes. This is Dr Reid.’ He wrapped an arm around Jonathan’s shoulder and drew him inside. The door led to an underground space.

The vulkod closed the door behind them and followed them down the stairs. Jonathan looked behind him and saw that the hulking man kept his eyes fixed on him, clearly unimpressed by his presence.

At the bottom of the stairs, there was another entrance. This one was clean and wallpapered, with small hooks on the wall for hanging coats and hats. Jonathan took off his coat, soaked from the rain, and hung it on the far left hook, then removed his hat. ‘Is this where the Council is?’ he asked Jacques while the other man removed his jacket.

‘Oh no. We rarely ever go to the main hall. Safer that way. Less likely for hunters or any collaborators to follow us. We have safe houses like this across the city.’

Jacques opened the only door in the entrance and permitted Jonathan to enter. It felt like walking into a high-class bar or coffeehouse. There were low brown leather sofas around the room. Dark red wallpaper lined the walls and featured classical paintings in dark gold picture frames. There were a few lamps around the room, but the lighting was soft and the room slightly dimmed.

When he walked in, Jonathan noted there were quite a lot of ekons sitting and talking amongst each other. Around fifty at a glance.

They were all dressed smartly, some with only a slight sheen to their eyes, others with full red cat eyes. A few near the door saw him enter, but no one recognised him, nor did he recognise them.

Within the crowd, he heard, ‘Jonathan?’ 

A few ekons moved aside. Jonathan looked over and saw Edgar making his way towards them. Once more, he had the same feeling he had when he first met Geoffrey again, like the world had shifted without him and he was left in the time before, wearing it like a sad cloak. Old and dated.

It was an uncomfortable feeling.

Edgar did not dress casually and non-discreet like Geoffrey. His suit was clearly tailored but had a modern fit, with a light, almost linen shirt and a tan suit jacket and trousers. He had let his hair grow out so it brushed his ears, and he wore plastic glasses frames in a light brown. 

Edgar drew his hand forward to shake Jonathan’s when he noticed his fingers. Dark and black at the tips, the joints slightly broken, and the dark staining seemed to trail beyond his sleeve.

He still accepted the handshake, but could not draw his hand away. ‘Edgar, are you alright? Your hands—’

‘Jonathan, it is so good to see you. I thought… well, I thought maybe you died. Or fled to America. I have heard nothing of you.’ He noticed that Jonathan was looking at his fingers. ‘Oh, don’t worry about that. From a long time ago. Please, come inside, take a seat. We have much to discuss.’

Edgar led him to the corner where it was slightly quieter. There were two empty sofas opposite each other with an oak coffee table between them. Jonathan took a seat on one sofa, Jacques opposite and Edgar beside him.

‘I am sorry for my shock. I simply did not expect to see you, my friend. After the epidemic, you left so suddenly. You did not reply to any of my letters. I thought you may have left the country.’

Before Jonathan could respond, a slight mortal woman approached the table. She was dressed in a uniform but was extremely thin, bones peeking through the skin at her wrists and cheeks. She had pale skin, thin hair and sunken eyes. Jonathan did not need to be a doctor to know she was suffering from malnutrition.

She placed three wine glasses on the table and drew a small knife from a pocket in her apron. No words were spoken by her, and perhaps if he had not been so on edge, he would not have noticed her. Neither Edgar nor Jacques paid her any mind.

‘I… well. I thought it unwise to answer your letters as I was still with Elisabeth. She was and still is not pleased with you.’

The slight girl brought the knife to the inside of her wrist, made a quick incision and allowed the blood to flow into each of the three glasses.

The smell and the sight caused Jonathan to pause before he continued, ‘We have stayed in Scotland since. Been extremely isolated.’ 

The waitress placed the knife back in her pocket and drew herself up to leave. Jonathan meant to ask if she needed help bandaging the wound, but she had gone as quickly as she arrived and seemed to have already done so herself.

Edgar had gone pale, pale even for a vampire. ‘Is Lady Ashbury with you?’

‘No, she stayed—’

‘You lived in Britain for the last hundred years?’ Jacques interrupted. ‘The country has been blacklisted by the Council since 1969. As far as I am aware, there were no survivors of the Great Hunt. How did you keep from the hunters?’

Jonathan looked to Edgar. His heart rate had settled slightly after hearing Elisabeth was not in the city. He leaned forward to grab the glass on the table, a slight tremor in his hand.

‘We went into isolation in 1918. We have had nothing to do with the outside world since then, really.’

‘Have you met him?’ Jacques asked.

‘Who?’

‘The blood traitor. The Brotherhood told us that even after the Guard of Priwen left the Isles, the countries remain under the protection of a nimrod. Have you met him?’

‘I—’

Edgar interrupted, ‘Jacques, could you perhaps allow me to speak to Dr Reid alone? We have not spoken in so long.’

The other man simply nodded and left the sofa, leaving Jonathan alone with his progeny. ‘Embarrassed, are we?’

Edgar sputtered. ‘Most people would have another ekon as a blood sibling, someone they may see occasionally. He continued to stalk me, you know, after you Turned me. Had people watching the hospital, watching me.’

‘In case you killed patients. Or doctors. Or nurses. Which I was informed you did.’

‘So you have spoken to McCullum, and you believe that brute? He had me killed, Jonathan, in case you’ve forgotten. He is a murderer and a fanatic. After you left, he had the perfect opportunity and the power to do whatever he wished. God, I only heard of the bloodshed. Other than yourself and Lady Ashbury, there were no survivors. They had all ports completely locked down, people could not escape.’ Swansea took a small sip from the glass, his hands still shaking slightly.

‘That beast should be executed,’ he continued. ‘Let the Skal slaves he is keeping free and let England return to what it once was.’

Jonathan thought calling what he saw of the Skal community in London was uninformed, as they seemed happy enough, and the agreement was realistic for both parties, if a bit manipulative.

‘But you cannot return to England, Edgar.’

The shake increased slightly. He looked down at his hands, then his blackened fingers with the nails broken. He sighed. ‘Yes, the Ban. I really doubted Talltree would use it. He had warned me about—well, about my actions concerning the epidemic. But he did not ban me until 1928.’

‘I heard you tried to bid for leadership.’

‘I was overly ambitious, Jonathan. But I did not do anything uncouth.’

Jonathan took a small sip of his own glass before asking, ‘Was Talltree a vampire?’

‘I had not even realised, even after being Turned. I did not know until he performed the Ban.’ He paused, placed his glass back on the table, and fully inspected his hands. ‘It was only a partial Ban. I would have died that day if it were not. He completely banned me from British soil, and it has weakened me significantly. Any inspections I have done on my own blood show the damage.’

‘Why did he do it?’

‘Like I said, Jonathan, I was overly ambitious. Not just about leadership of the Brotherhood, but about everything.’

Jonathan inspected his progeny. Edgar looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes and his shoulders held a small slope.

‘I understand.’

Edgar offered a small smile. ‘Let us move on from such a dreary past. What brings you to Cologne, my friend?’

‘Actually, I wished to speak to you. Sean Hampton informed me about your actions regarding a Dhampir pregnancy. I believe the child was called Mia. If I am recalling correctly, I thought I had asked you to stop any unethical experiments.’

Edgar’s eyes widened, eyebrows rising. ‘Jonathan, Mia was born in 1979. It was all extremely ethical. I had permission from both father and mother to assist in the birth and to prioritise the safety of the child.’

‘No, that does not make sense. I was informed by a lab assistant that you were working with Kareem Hussain at the University of Cologne. That you did not allow the correct assistance with the pregnancy and refused a midwife carer. I was also informed that you experimented on the child after she was born. Specifically, her DNA. Which was corroborated, as I know you took electrophoresis apparatus gel from the University, which is specifically needed for DNA sampling.’

‘A lab assistant? There was only one assistant during the pregnancy, Lewis Wood. And Kareem has been dead for years. He had not worked professionally for long before that as well.’

Jonathan nodded. ‘Yes, it was Lewis who informed me.’

‘But—’ Edgar stuttered. ‘But Lewis has been missing since 1987. It was all so messy. He wanted to leave, go home to Derby. Mia was so attached to him. She had not been fully grown up long and saw him as her only friend. We thought maybe separating them for a time would be beneficial, but he ran away soon after. But, dear God, Jonathan, that was over twenty years ago.’

‘That is not true. Lewis only reached London half a year ago.’

‘Like I said, he went missing.’ Edgar quickly looked over his shoulder. ‘But perhaps this is not the best place to discuss this. Tomorrow night, would you meet me back here? I could introduce you to Mia and to her father, Jason Doukas.’

‘They are both in the city still?’

Edgar placed his glass on the table, leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice. ‘Yes. Doukas is the progeny of Peresvet Andreyev, the leader of the Council and an elder vampire. Mia is well known in the community. But perhaps what Lewis has told you about her should be kept quiet.’

Jonathan answered softly, ‘Do people not know she is a Dhampir?’

‘That is common knowledge, but let us continue the discussion with Mia present.’

He nodded. It seemed unlikely Edgar would give any more information about Mia with the current company present. But the timeline did not make sense. If Mia truly was born in 1979, then where was Lewis for all those years? Both Sean and Geoffrey confirmed Lewis had only been living in London for five to six months.

‘Also,’ Edgar continued, ‘it would be good for you to meet Andreyev. I am sure he would love to speak to you about joining us. I assume Jacques wished to offer you the same thing.’

‘Joining you? The Council, you mean?’

‘Yes. You may not have noticed, being isolated and all that. But the world is not quite as ekon-friendly as you remember.’

Jonathan remembered being hunted in the streets, the bodies of skals lining the roads. Was that friendly, before?

‘Perhaps we remember it slightly differently. I remember it not being so pleasant.’

Edgar shook his head. ‘Before, the Guard of Priwen were basically a group of armed thugs, but that is not the case now. Jonathan, here on the continent, they are everywhere. You might not see them, but I assure you, they see you. They are the bank clerk who refuses to open an account for you. They are the bus driver who reports your location.’

He gestured to the people in the room. ‘The number of people in the Council has increased exponentially, simply because we need each other now.’

‘I have not been bothered since my arrival.’

‘I assume because you have spoken to McCullum, who has probably given you some breathing space. Reported it back to all his wardogs. I bet he is Cerberus, the head of the Guard. Just changed his name and continued leadership.’

Jonathan did not bother answering that, as he was sure that was not the case. He saw Geoffrey in London, saw his home, the skals. Geoffrey may have told the truth that he was only an external member. But there was no way he was running the whole organisation.

‘But what of the electrophoresis apparatus gel you took from the University?’

Edgar swallowed. ‘I admit I have been doing scientific research into vampiric DNA and development for the Council, but everyone I have worked with has been willing participants and fully consensual. When you visit the Council with me tomorrow, I can show you my work.’

‘Have you not learned your lesson? Was the epidemic not enough?’

He could not believe what he heard. Edgar was conducting experiments, exactly as Lewis explained. There had been a slight hope that this had been a misunderstanding. Edgar had been hired to help Mia as a doctor, but the experiments did not occur. Now, that did not seem to be the case.

‘This is not like what happened with Ms Jones.’ He paused, eyes flicking around at those in the room. ‘I can explain it all tomorrow.’

Jonathan looked around the room, noticing that a few eyes often looked in their direction before quickly looking away. ‘Okay, I will see you here tomorrow. Would ten pm work with you?’

‘Yes, thank you. I will see you then.’

Both men finished their drinks and bid each other farewell. On his way out, Jonathan quickly said goodbye to Jacques before grabbing his coat and hat. The vulkod at the door offered him no warm goodbye, but was polite enough to hold the door open and swiftly locked it once he exited.

He stepped out into the ruins of the burnt house and slowly walked back towards the city centre and the apartment.

After his discussion with Geoffrey, he had hoped Swansea would offer some answers, but he had been left more confused. Edgar gained nothing from lying about when Mia was born. If he was going to, why not lie about the whole situation, specifically about the DNA testing? No. It made no sense to lie about the date of birth.

Then, where did Lewis go after he fled in 1986? He was not seen in London until 2019, earlier this year. That was a long time for a skal to be unaccounted for. He had heard from three sources now, Edgar, Geoffrey and Khushi at the university, that the Guard of Priwen had eliminated most skals from the streets. Either through killing them or forcing them to join the communities.

It left Jonathan at a loss. Perhaps Lewis received blood from a different ekon during that time and decided to go home after twenty years. He did say he wanted to go home to England, and Edgar confirmed that as well. But then why lie about the dates to Sean and to himself? Was he scared of retaliation?

After pondering the situation for a few minutes more, Jonathan arrived back at the apartment where he had started his investigation hours previously.

Chapter Text

Before reentering the apartment building, Jonathan quickly scanned his eyes to see who was inside. He saw both Josef Schradem, his host, and Yasmina Höfle, the older lady next door, both in their respective apartments. However, the apartment that he and Geoffrey were sharing seemed vacant.

He assumed Geoffrey simply had not arrived yet and went inside the apartment building. It was not until he was halfway up the stairs that he heard Geoffrey's voice, slight and low, ‘I am not sure.’

Jonathan checked again, no heartbeat, nothing in apartment three. He swiftly pulled out his key and opened the door to their shared apartment.

Inside, he saw Geoffrey, two men dressed in black, Miss Chahal from the University, and a very old man sitting on a chair near the dining table.

Khushi waved at him slightly, pink nails on full display, ‘Whattup danger.’

‘I apologise,’ he said, locking the door behind him, ‘I was not aware we would be having guests, nor did I see anyone waiting.’

He flicked his eyes towards Geoffrey, who was standing towards the back and only offered a slight, sad look in return.

Khushi jumped slightly then, ‘Yeah, it was a great little thing, messed with vampiric senses.’

The old man sitting at the table smiled slightly before saying, ‘Miss Chahal, we do not want to bore Dr Reid, do we?’ He was very old, late eighties at least. He had a light brushing of white, not silver, hair and a drawn face with wrinkles. Jonathan thought he did not seem overly tall, if anything, a shorter man who was also quite slim.

The man coughed a few times into a hankie, which was in his hand. Jonathan smelt it then. Blood. This man was coughing up small speckles of blood.

‘Dr Reid, I apologise for showing up unannounced, Geoffrey said you do not do mobiles, so we could not inform you we were here. But I wished to meet you myself.’ His voice was subtle, almost a whisper, and had a German accent.

Jonathan took off his coat and hat, still damp, and nodded his head. ‘And you are yet to introduce yourself, sir.’

‘I thought Geoffrey had explained who I was. I apologise. I am Arthur Hopfner. Miss Chahal informed me of your arrival, as did your neighbour. She reported that a vampire was in her building.’ He gestured beyond where Jonathan was standing, ‘Very useful, I must admit. I had someone follow you. Who then reported that Geoffrey killed the ekon you briefly met while heading to the University.’

Jonathan finished for him, ‘Then you figured out the rest, and Khushi confirmed our identity.’

Arthur only shrugged, ‘When you have been doing this as long as I have, Dr Reid, it starts getting easy.’

He had said it easily, like this was just another day to him. Another job.

‘You wanted to meet me for yourself?’

‘Yes,’ Arthur stopped again, coughed harshly again. He sputtered a second, then continued, ‘Apologies.’

‘Mr Hopfner, you are quite unwell. I could take a look—’

A huff of laughter then, almost inaudible, ‘Stage four lung cancer, I am afraid. I had twenty-first-century doctors taking care of me, do not worry. But back to the topic, I wished to meet you myself. Explain your situation.’

Jonathan stood next to one of the sofas in the room, but moved towards one of the spare dining room chairs. One was used by Arthur, and another by Khushi, the two other men Arthur had brought stood static beside him. Jonathan pulled out the chair and took a seat.

‘I assume Geoffrey has informed you about our investigation into Dr Swansea.’

Arthur nodded, ‘Yes, he has, but that is not what I wished to speak to you about. Geoffrey said he explained that I am the head of the administrative department of the Guard of Priwen.’ A pause, a smaller cough.

He continued, ‘The department is called Engagement. We handle a variety of issues. Recruitment of all branches starts with us, then we deploy people into different areas as we see fit. Admin, human resources, and finances, for example. We handle that too. But, more importantly, we deal with the Skal communities across Europe and provide them with blood and flesh in compensation for their cooperation.’

Before Jonathan could say anything, Geoffrey set a glass of water in front of Arthur and allowed him a second to take a breath before he replied. ‘Yes, I saw the community in London. I was quite impressed.’

Arthur took a sip of water, and Khushi answered, ‘The communities all over Europe are based on that model.’

‘Forgive me,’ the older man said, ‘Khushi is right. The success of the British Isles has been the model we have used going forward. We have tried to consider how we could use a similar model for ekons, but to verify success, skals or ekons who live in our communities have to live under our law.’

Ekon communities, Jonathan wondered how that worked. All forms of vampires were isolationist, but ekons were more prone to blending in with the rest of society. A privilege few skals had.

‘Priwen Law? Geoffrey mentioned that yesterday. And you have ekon communities similar to the skal ones?’

Arthur smiled again, ‘Would that not be useful, but no. Ekons, I apologise for the insult, they are overly prideful murderers. We could not set up communities like what the skals have, as ekons are too flighty and would not stay in one place. Instead, we have ekons who are similar to you.’

Jonathan did agree with Arthur's assessment, ekons would not enjoy the cramped commune living arrangements the skals have. ‘You mean isolated away from mortals.’

One of the men behind Arthur had taken to tapping his nail on a gun holstered at his waist. Jonathan was unsure if this was in response to calling humans ‘morals’ or a nervous tic. Being without his ability to sense heartbeats had left him slightly blind. He couldn’t tell whether the man’s heart rate had increased. 

‘Not exactly, we offer newborn ekons freedom and do not exercise prosecution on them, if they agree to our law. Do not kill mortals, under any condition. Do not engage in any ekon sedition. If they follow these laws, then we grant them ethical blood.’

‘Ethical?’ Jonathan said, ‘What exactly do you mean?’

Arthur coughed again, ‘We have a large membership base, Dr Reid. For those who actively wish to see these ekon communities, they can donate blood. In the Engagement department, we then issue that blood to the ekons who wish to live under Priwen Law.’

No one said anything for a moment, and a silence fell over the room. Jonathan had been searching for something like this as a newborn. Freedom from hunters chasing him, relief from the need to take a life every night. An ethical way to exist as a vampire.

The shock on his face must have been clear, ‘Dr Reid, you have technically fallen under that, as you have been isolated for so long. Therefore, it is my responsibility to inform you that you fall under my department. If you or Lady Ashbury require sustenance, we can provide it. You will be issued two blood bags, one each, a week. If there are any supply issues, you will be informed.’

‘And do you have supply issues? I doubt that many members of the Guard would be willing to give their blood to vampires.’

‘We do not have many ekons living under our laws, and our membership is so high we can cover the supply even if it increases.’

‘How many members? In the thousands.’

Arthur shrugged, ‘Try the millions.’

The rain outside peaked then, the spattering of water on the windows increased and created a low thum throughout the room. 

Jonathan sputtered then, ‘Millions? I doubt—’

A cough interrupted him, a strong one. Blood stained the material he was coughing into, and Jonathan allowed him the time to settle.

‘We do have millions,’ Arthur replied, breath slightly weak. ‘When I was young, my mother was able to flee to what became West Germany after the country was separated. But she needed to leave everything in the process. She was able to rent a single room with what she had left. The landlord rented all the rooms to families in similar positions.’

He paused to catch his breath, ‘When the families struggled to find work, or could not afford rent, people would go missing. Not the whole family, but the grandmother, the father, for example. I came home from school late one evening, and I was a teenager. I saw him then. The landlord. He had killed our neighbour.’

Jonathan only took an unneeded breath, ‘A vampire, I assume.’

Arthur hummed in agreement, ‘I told my mother we needed to leave, but she did not believe me. I ended up finding a member of the Brotherhood of Saint Paul's Stole. I told him about our landlord.’

Jonathan waited for him to continue. Arthur locked eyes with him when he said, ‘and they did nothing.’

Khushi swore under her breath then, and Geoffrey did not look surprised at all. The man who had been tapping his gun stopped. 

‘They truly did nothing?’ Jonathan asked, ‘But he was killing his tenants.’

He remembered when he first met Edgar, as the other man was investigating the deaths around the Docks. Edgar never informed him what he would have done if he had found William Bishop before himself. Would he have passed the information to Talltree, or attempted to remove the skal himself? Both seemed unlikely. 

Skals seemed below Talltree, and the man had taken no action throughout the epidemic as the skal infestation grew worse. Edgar was also not confrontational by nature, something even Vampirism hadn’t changed. He allowed Elisabeth to kill patients on the brink of death, and knew Jonathan must have killed Clay Cox, and yet he did nothing. 

‘He was not a dragon. So they did nothing.’ Arthur coughed again softly, ‘Now look at me, doctor. I am an old, ill man now, but even when I was young, I was never a fighter. I kept searching for someone to help me when I was told about Priwen. Mostly a British organisation, but they seemed to be trying to set up outposts in France.’

‘So you joined?’

‘I was rejected by Louise Hart, the leader of the Guard at the time.’ He laughed, ‘Funny how these things happen. I was not a fighter, and I could barely shoot a gun. So I offered other skills instead. I worked on communications and logistics. Proved my usefulness.’

Jonathan asked, ‘And that helped with membership. I do not believe it is a million people.’

‘More than a million,’ Khushi added quickly. Jonathan had almost forgotten she was here as he couldn’t hear or see her heartbeat, and she seemed content to listen in and add only the occasional comment. 

Arthur only shot her a soft glance before he explained, ‘There are millions of people like me who wanted to see vampires finally held responsible for their actions, but were not fighters, who were old, or had families, or careers. Those people held our values, but should we decline their membership? Why? We could use their skills, their roles in society, to our advantage.’

He remembered what Edgar said, the bank clerk who would refuse to open an account for you, the bus driver who would report you. So this was what he was talking about. Members of the public, civilians, who were secretly members of the Guard of Priwen. Over a million of them, if Khushi was to be believed. He had not even considered that his next-door neighbour would report him. 

‘And you work for Cerberus?’

Khushi giggled slightly before being hushed by one of the men beside Arthur. 

‘I am Cerberus,’ Arthur said, ‘as is Tomasz Krawczyk in Warsaw, and Yosma Ulusoy. But I am not quite sure where she is based, she moves around so frequently. Always chasing down some lead or another. As the guard grew, things became unrealistic for one person to run. Why not split things up, and with three departments, we never had an equal split of votes.’

Arthur coughed again, and Jonathan asked, ‘So the three-headed dog was born. Engagement as one head, and the other two?’

‘Education and Eradication,’ one of the men behind Arthur added.

‘I see.’ He turned to Khushi, ‘So you work for the Engagement department.’

She shook her head, ‘No, I work in Education. I am just based in the city, so it is easier for me to report directly to Mr Hopfner. But now I know you fall under our law. If you have any questions, I can answer them, not everything, of course, got to have secrets, but any general information I can help you with.’

Arthur seemed happy to let Khushi continue while he caught his breath.

‘What does the Education department do?’

‘We have two halves,’ she said, ‘one half deals with record keeping and archiving. In vampire years, we are actually a very modern organisation. But we have relics and our own internal library. Then we have the science half,’ she winked at Jonathan, ‘the best half.

‘We do weapons manufacturing, medical checks, and blood testing. We test skal blood to see what actually happens when they ingest ekon blood and why it changes. Or how vampire lineage works.’

Jonathan admitted that it was quite impressive, and if he stayed an ekon under their law, he would request some of their scientific articles or research papers. ‘And that is run by Dr Krawczyk?’

‘He is a genius. I have only met him myself a handful of times, been to his lectures as well,’ Khushi exclaimed.

Arthur interrupted then, ‘He is working on a cure for vampirism, Dr Reid.’

A cure. He had considered it himself back in 1918. Thought about it on his rounds at the hospital, mentioned it to Edgar and Elisabeth. But could it actually be real? Could the world truly have advanced so? 

Jonathan allowed himself a small gleam of hope. To feel the sun again, to eat chocolate and age gracefully. 

‘And you think he may create this?’

Arthur smiled, ‘Not in my lifetime. But I probably will not meet you again either in my lifetime, so perhaps that is a poor tool to measure.’

The older man held out his hand, and one of the bodyguards with him handed him a wooden cane. ‘I think I have explained your situation. I will deploy someone to England to act as your liaison for Priwen. They will contact you directly. If you have any questions, you can ask them.’

Jonathan rose to his feet and offered Mr Hopfner a hand. He shook his head, ‘It would be a cold day in hell before I accepted help from your kind, Dr Reid.’

The two men beside him opened the door and allowed Mr Hopfner space to take his leave.

‘It was a pleasure to meet you, sir,’ Jonathan said.

Arthur only nodded before he exited the apartment, and finally, Jonathan could sense the heartbeats of those around him.

‘I guess that is my cue to leave as well,’ Khushi added. She had stood up just before and had her hands on her hips.

‘It was nice to see you again, Ms Chahal.’

‘Really? I shot you last time. I would offer to do it again, as a joke, but I did not bring the gun. It was actually a prototype. I am going to be in so much trouble for not taking notes.’ She shrugged and left the apartment as well.

Jonathan waited before the four of them exited the building before he asked, ‘Was it wise to bring them here?’

Geoffrey was still standing in the kitchenette. ‘It felt more obstructive not to let Arthur meet you himself. The fewer peering eyes, the better.’

‘I quite like him.’

He reminded Jonathan of some of the civilians he met during the War, the quiet power behind simply existing quietly. There was sometimes as much force in choosing not to pick up the gun as to fire one. A bit like Clarence.

‘Arthur? That is understandable, he is a smart man. Always has been.’

Jonathan thought so as well, and it corroborated what Geoffrey said about Priwen earlier this evening. That Priwen was a modern organisation that grew and changed as leadership passed hands. To be able to use non-combatants was an interesting move, and seemed to be serving them well.

‘He reminded me of an old friend.’

Geoffrey did not reply and instead cleaned the glass Arthur had used.

‘Will Priwen be a problem for us?’

He shook his head, ‘No, if Arthur wanted either of us dead, he would have just done so. His offer is legitimate as well. If you follow the law, you get to live in peace.’

What would Elisabeth make of that, he wondered. Both ekons had searched for a compassionate existence, and it was part of what drew them to each other. Was this it, truly? Could someone live as an ekon guilt-free? Elisabeth might see this as another cage, another prison, and had not all his research been so that they could be free. Explore the world together.

‘Is that what you have? Peace?’

Geoffrey huffed slightly, ‘No peace until every vampire is dead or under control. Otherwise, there will just be more victims. Just like me, and just like your sister.’

Jonathan was unsure whether this bureaucratically enforced law was a fix to the necessity of vampiric murder. He allowed himself a moment to listen for the car outside to drive away before he asked, ‘Did you find anything out about Swansea?’

‘He has been working for the Council of the Road for around forty years, as a scientist, it seemed. Ulusoy seemed to have him flagged as a key member as well.'

Nothing he had not already found out from Edgar directly, which meant he was most likely telling Jonathan the truth regarding his role within the Council and his work there. It was useful to have that confirmed.

‘I spoke to Edgar myself. He said the same.’

Geoffrey perked up at the news, ‘Where did you find him, and what did he have to say for himself regarding these experiments?’

Jonathan looked out of the window. Perhaps it would not be wise to confirm the location where he had met Edgar just yet. While he did like Arthur and was impressed by this modern Priwen. He could not quite trust Geoffrey not to report the location.

‘He confirmed Hussain died years ago and that Lewis had been missing for twenty years after becoming a Skal. According to him, the Dhampir was born in 1979.'

Geoffrey ran a hand through his hair, ‘But that did not make sense. Lewis had been nervous but lucid when I met him in London. If he had been a member of the Skal communities, then he would not have been allowed to leave, and he would have been monitored. He would not have been able to flee all the way to England without them noticing.’

Jonathan agreed. While Lewis’s location during those twenty years did not directly affect Edgar's involvement in vampire experiments, it was a significant issue regarding his clarity on the situation. Where had Lewis gone, and how had he stayed lucid during that time?

‘Maybe Swansea was lying. Lewis might have stayed working for him during those twenty years, drank blood from his employer and didn't grow a conscience until later. Ran off then.'

It was a worthwhile theory, Jonathan admitted to himself. But it did not quite make sense to him. ‘If that was so, why would Lewis lie about that?’

‘Did Lewis tell you when specifically he left?’

He thought back to the conversation. Jonathan had been more interested in the experiments Edgar might have been performing rather than any time specifics. Lewis mentioned he did work for Edgar and Kareem after Ella was born, and that was when he was infected. But he did not specify how long he stayed there after that.

‘No, he did not.’

Geoffrey gripped the backrest of the chair, hands tight. ‘Regret and fear are potent drugs.’

They might have come up with a reason why Lewis might have lied, but did Edgar have such a motive?

‘Edgar admitted to being involved in the Dhampir's birth, he told me he was hired by both parents as a medical practitioner. Also, admitted he had been studying vampiric DNA since then. According to him, his work had been ethical and morally sound.’

Geoffrey scoffed, ‘Of course he would say that.’

‘But why lie about Lewis being missing?’ Jonathan said.

‘Did you tell him what specifically Lewis said?’ He shrugged and continued, ‘I assumed he was trying to cover his own back. Snake.’

Jonathan had to fight the childish urge to bite his thumb, as this just was not adding up to him. There was something here he was missing.

‘Edgar invited me to speak to the Council of the Road tomorrow. I thought it might be useful to see his research myself.’

‘I can’t go with you, of course.’

He nodded. Edgar was already deeply humiliated at who his blood brother was, and he doubted he would be allowed entry if he brought McCullum along. Although the conversation between the two would be extremely entertaining, if a bit violent.

‘That does seem wise.’

Geoffrey let go of the chair and rolled his eyes, ‘Right. I have a few more leads I can entertain tomorrow night while you go off schmoozing with the Vampire elite. But I’ll warn you, Jonathan. I protected you for the last hundred years, as you were isolated and caused no one any trouble, but now Hophner knows who you are and that you are not staying home anymore…’

The rest remained unsaid. Jonathan had listened when Arthur explained Priwen Law, and he assumed collaboration with the Council of the Road would not be tolerated. But he needed to find out more about the situation regarding Ella and her birth forty years ago.

‘I understand, I am just investigating.’

‘Best keep it that way, Doctor.’