an alluring smile.
‘You dropped this back there,’ she said, holding out a twenty-pound note.
He looked at it with a puzzled expression. ‘Did I?’
‘It fell out of your pocket.’
‘Really? Wow. I didn’t even know I had—’ He shrugged, took the money and thanked her.
The fish had taken the bait. She stood there, smiling, one eyebrow raised suggestively. He hesitated. The hand with the wedding ring slipped unconsciously into his pocket: sure sign he was interested. Alex sidled up to him, letting him feel her breasts crush up against his chest. He seemed to be up for it. She moved up as though to kiss him. In her mouth, the long curved fangs were extending into place, ready. His neck was exposed, a fat blue vein pulsing enticingly. She moved in and he didn’t back off.
It was in the bag. The blood rushed to her eyes and her predatory vampire instinct took over as she went in for the bite.
And then the phone went off in her pocket, distracting her, and the guy came to his senses and walked off, flushed and bemused and still holding her banknote.
She answered the phone.
‘Damn it, Harry,’ she said irritably. ‘You just cost me a feed and twenty quid.’
‘How fast can you get over to Oxford?’
‘Pretty fast. What’s in Oxford?’
‘There was a car accident late last night. Single driver, a teenage kid. The police took him to the John Radcliffe hospital. I’ve got a report from one of our people inside that the kid was ranting and raving. Something about a ritual blood sacrifice taking place.’
‘The V-word get mentioned?’
‘Said he found a whole nest. Apparently he was running away from it when he crashed his car.’
Alex frowned. ‘More rogue activity?’
‘It’s a possibility.’
‘Or it could be just the usual Hallowe’en hysteria. We get this every year, Harry. I’ll bet you anything this kid was on drugs.’
‘He was. But I think you should check it out nonetheless. We can’t afford to take chances here.’
‘Why does it have to be me? Can’t you send Gibson?’
‘Gibson’s in Athens.’
Alex sighed. ‘Fine. I’m on my way.’
Chapter Thirteen
Ever since the conversation he’d overheard in the canteen, Joel hadn’t been able to shut the story of Declan Maddon out of his head. Maybe he was going crazy. Maybe he’d been working too hard and his brain was going into meltdown.
But he’d just had to go and talk to this kid. After a fraught and unproductive morning of pushing paper around, he’d seen a ninety-minute window open up in his schedule and grabbed it. The John Radcliffe hospital was on the edge of the city, off the Oxford ring road. Joel rode fast. Just before midday and the sun was shining brightly now – it was turning into one of those beautiful autumnal days that seemed to be getting rarer with each passing year.
The staff nurse looked as perplexed at Joel’s request as she was by his appearance in bike leathers and boots.
‘Again? The police were here last night talking to him.’
‘I have just a few more questions,’ Joel said.
Dec Maddon was on the second floor, sharing a near empty ward with a frail old guy who looked like he was dying. The kid was propped up in his narrow bed with his left arm in a sling. His face was pale and his eyes were rimmed with red, with dark circles around them. He stared up in sullen indignation as Joel approached his bed and flashed his police ID.
‘Hello, Declan,’ Joel said cordially.
‘I told them I didn’t take the fucking pills,’ the kid said sourly. ‘And my name’s Dec. Not Declan. Nobody calls me Declan.’
Joel scraped a chair across the tiles and sat down next to the bed.
‘How about we start again? Hello, Dec. I see you’ve been in the wars.’ He glanced over at the old man at the other end of the ward, but he didn’t seem to be in a fit state to overhear much. ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking you a few more questions?’
‘Haven’t we done this already?’
‘Tell me
‘You dropped this back there,’ she said, holding out a twenty-pound note.
He looked at it with a puzzled expression. ‘Did I?’
‘It fell out of your pocket.’
‘Really? Wow. I didn’t even know I had—’ He shrugged, took the money and thanked her.
The fish had taken the bait. She stood there, smiling, one eyebrow raised suggestively. He hesitated. The hand with the wedding ring slipped unconsciously into his pocket: sure sign he was interested. Alex sidled up to him, letting him feel her breasts crush up against his chest. He seemed to be up for it. She moved up as though to kiss him. In her mouth, the long curved fangs were extending into place, ready. His neck was exposed, a fat blue vein pulsing enticingly. She moved in and he didn’t back off.
It was in the bag. The blood rushed to her eyes and her predatory vampire instinct took over as she went in for the bite.
And then the phone went off in her pocket, distracting her, and the guy came to his senses and walked off, flushed and bemused and still holding her banknote.
She answered the phone.
‘Damn it, Harry,’ she said irritably. ‘You just cost me a feed and twenty quid.’
‘How fast can you get over to Oxford?’
‘Pretty fast. What’s in Oxford?’
‘There was a car accident late last night. Single driver, a teenage kid. The police took him to the John Radcliffe hospital. I’ve got a report from one of our people inside that the kid was ranting and raving. Something about a ritual blood sacrifice taking place.’
‘The V-word get mentioned?’
‘Said he found a whole nest. Apparently he was running away from it when he crashed his car.’
Alex frowned. ‘More rogue activity?’
‘It’s a possibility.’
‘Or it could be just the usual Hallowe’en hysteria. We get this every year, Harry. I’ll bet you anything this kid was on drugs.’
‘He was. But I think you should check it out nonetheless. We can’t afford to take chances here.’
‘Why does it have to be me? Can’t you send Gibson?’
‘Gibson’s in Athens.’
Alex sighed. ‘Fine. I’m on my way.’
Chapter Thirteen
Ever since the conversation he’d overheard in the canteen, Joel hadn’t been able to shut the story of Declan Maddon out of his head. Maybe he was going crazy. Maybe he’d been working too hard and his brain was going into meltdown.
But he’d just had to go and talk to this kid. After a fraught and unproductive morning of pushing paper around, he’d seen a ninety-minute window open up in his schedule and grabbed it. The John Radcliffe hospital was on the edge of the city, off the Oxford ring road. Joel rode fast. Just before midday and the sun was shining brightly now – it was turning into one of those beautiful autumnal days that seemed to be getting rarer with each passing year.
The staff nurse looked as perplexed at Joel’s request as she was by his appearance in bike leathers and boots.
‘Again? The police were here last night talking to him.’
‘I have just a few more questions,’ Joel said.
Dec Maddon was on the second floor, sharing a near empty ward with a frail old guy who looked like he was dying. The kid was propped up in his narrow bed with his left arm in a sling. His face was pale and his eyes were rimmed with red, with dark circles around them. He stared up in sullen indignation as Joel approached his bed and flashed his police ID.
‘Hello, Declan,’ Joel said cordially.
‘I told them I didn’t take the fucking pills,’ the kid said sourly. ‘And my name’s Dec. Not Declan. Nobody calls me Declan.’
Joel scraped a chair across the tiles and sat down next to the bed.
‘How about we start again? Hello, Dec. I see you’ve been in the wars.’ He glanced over at the old man at the other end of the ward, but he didn’t seem to be in a fit state to overhear much. ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking you a few more questions?’
‘Haven’t we done this already?’
‘Tell me
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