The Last of the Red-Hot Vampires

Chapter 20

"That's it, number twelve. Boy, that's a mess, huh?"

"Very." I examined the outside of the small house that sat across the street. A black wrought-iron fence lurched drunkenly around a small garden that was more weeds than flowers, tall grass sheltering what appeared to be a rusted wheelbarrow. Butterflies provided brilliant spots of color as they flitted about the yard. "It's not exactly what you'd expect from someone who used to live in the Court, is it?"

"I don't know," Sarah answered thoughtfully as we got out of the car. "I suppose once you'd lived in heaven, anything else would be…crap."

The battered gate screeched painfully as I pushed it open, making my way through cast-off garden implements and boxes of unnamed refuse to the dirty front door.

"You're not just going to knock, are you?" Sarah asked as I raised my hand to do just that.

"Of course I am. What did you think we were going to do here?"

"Well, I don't know." She clutched her hands together in an agitated manner. "I thought maybe we'd stake out the house for a bit, and watch to see where Milo goes, and who he meets, and things like that. That's what I'd do, anyway."

"This isn't one of your books, Sarah, it's real life, and we don't have the time to play private detectives." I knocked on the door, taking a deep breath to calm my suddenly twitchy nerves.

"Yes? What is it?" The door opened, Milo's wife visible as she frowned out from the depths of the entrance. For a moment, I thought I saw a flash of surprise in her eyes, and I was overcome with a sense of similarity, a déjà vu that sent a skitter of goose bumps up my arms.

"Hello. You probably don't remember me, but my name is Portia Harding. My friend Sarah and I were at the ghost-hunting event last night."

She didn't so much as bat an eyelash. "Yes?"

I trotted out my friendliest smile. "I wondered if we could have a word with your husband?"

"Milo?" She frowned, giving us a look that expressed all sorts of suspicions. "I suppose so."

"Thank you—" I started to walk to through the door, jumping back when she closed it literally in my face. "Well, damn!"

"She isn't the friendliest person in the world," Sarah said behind me. "Wouldn't chat at all during our time at the mill. Mr. Richings told me he thought she was just shy, and that she'd probably loosen up once she started making regular runs with the group."

"Shy isn't quite the word I'd use to describe her," I said, rubbing my nose where it had bumped into the door. I turned back to Sarah, puzzled by something she'd said. "Once she started—"

"Hello, ladies! What a pleasure it is to see you both again, although a bit unexpected." Milo smiled at us, shaking our hands. "To what do I owe this honor?"

"You'll have to forgive us for stopping by without calling first, but to be honest, I wasn't sure if you would see us, and I really would appreciate the chance to talk."

"Of course," he said, stepping back and gesturing toward the door. "Please, come in and make yourself at home. Would you like a coffee?"

"Coffee would be lovely, thank you."

He escorted us down a dimly lit hallway to a small room that was clean, but had an unused feel to it, as if it was the room saved solely for company. "I'll just tell the wife that we've got visitors," Milo said, making a quick escape.

"Quaint," Sarah pronounced after making a cursory examination of the room. "Very English. Do you think Milo knows that we know who he is?"

"I'm not sure. He's a difficult man to make out." I sat in a flowery gold and scarlet chair, making a mental list of things I wished to ascertain.

"Oh, I don't know, he seems pretty straightforward to me." She shot me a quick glance. "With the exception of the obvious, that is. You know I don't like to make snap judgments, but I'm not sure I like his wife. What did you say her name was?"

"Carol. Sarah, does she remind you of anyone?"

"Milo's wife?"

I nodded, trying to pinpoint what it was about her that seemed so familiar.

"No. Unless you're talking about someone back home, and then I'd have to say Janice Del Rio. She used to come in and clean for me when the twins were little, remember? I caught her one day trying on my best dress."

"That's not it. I can't quite put my finger on it, but she reminds me of someone. I just can't think of who."

"Whom." Sarah went to the window to look out. "Do you want me to ask him about Hope?"

"No. I can ask my own questions."

"Portia, honey," Sarah turned, her hands spread wide. "You know I love you like a sister, but if you have a failing, it's that you're invariably blunt when you want information."

I lifted my chin and looked down my nose at her. "I am not blunt. I'm straightforward. The difference between which you are clearly unable to appreciate."

"Call it what you will, it seems to me that this situation is going to need careful handling. Since I am the soul of tact and subtlety, why don't you let me handle it?"

"I would be insulted except there's not time for me to argue with you. Suffice it to say, I will be the personification of the word subtle. All right?"

She sighed, and looked out the window again. Silence filled the room, no sound at all penetrating from the rest of the house.

My mind, normally organized and orderly, squirreled around, randomly hopping from thought to thought, giving me an uncomfortable, unsettled sort of feeling. But behind all that, there was a nagging sense of having missed something again, something important that, if only I could concentrate, I could see. It was at the tip of my awareness, just beyond my focus…

"Here we are, then." The door opened for Milo, bearing a small red plastic tray adorned with coffee mugs, a milk jug, sugar bowl, and small yellow bowl filled with the tea cookies so beloved by the English. "Sorry for the wait. How do you take yours?"

"Black is fine, thanks." I took a mug from him, and waved away the offer of a cookie. "I apologize again for barging in like this, but I'm in a bit of a bind, and I was hoping you could help me."

"Certainly," he said, offering Sarah a cookie. His eyes were the same smiling brown eyes of the man who'd amused me the night before, but I was wise to his ways now. "Anything I can do to help."

"We're looking for a virtue named Hope, and I was told by someone in the Court of Divine Blood that you knew her."

"Oh yes, that's subtle," Sarah murmured.

We both ignored her.

"Hope?" Milo asked, his eyes mirroring the surprise on his face. "The Court?"

"Look, I know you used to be an archon there, and were later kicked out, only to have the charges against you dropped," I said, setting down my mug. "So, although I appreciate the fact that you don't like a couple of relative strangers poking around in your past, you don't have to pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. I've seen the Akashic Record."

Milo slumped back in his chair, one hand rubbing over his face before he opened his eyes and gave me a short nod. "It seems I don't have a choice. If you've seen the Record—but what was it you wanted from me?"

"Let's start with, why didn't you tell me you were a trial proctor last night, when you conducted the fourth trial?"

"It's a bit complicated," he answered, his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward toward me. "I'm going to tell you the truth because you're a nice person, and I quite like you. It's true I concealed my position with the Court from you. I didn't want to, but I was told by someone high up in the Court that if I didn't, I'd lose my job."

"Someone didn't want me to know that I was undergoing the fourth trial?" I frowned when he nodded. "That doesn't make any sense. All the other proctors have announced who they were, and that a trial was about to start. Why wouldn't someone want me to know I was doing the fourth one?"

Milo stared down into his coffee, his thumb rubbing along the thick edge of the mug. "I wish I could tell you, Portia, I really wish I could. But I have my wife to think of. I've been banned from the Court before—I can't risk that again. All I can say is that someone doesn't want you to succeed as a virtue."

"Who?" Sarah asked.

"I can't tell you that," he said, giving her an apologetic smile.

"Well, can you narrow it down somewhat?" she asked. "Can't you give us some clue about who this secret enemy is? Surely Portia deserves that much consideration."

I sent Sarah a look of gratitude.

"Of course she does," Milo answered, rubbing his chin as he continued to gaze into his coffee. "I suppose it wouldn't be breaking any confidences if I was to tell you the person who wishes you ill is someone you've met here in England."

"Hmm. Someone I've met. Let's see, the first person who has Court ties whom I met is Theo."

Milo gave me a long look.

"There was Mystic Bettina," Sarah said, her eyes narrowed in thought. "And Milo and Carol, but obviously you're excluded from the list of suspects."

"Obviously," he said, smiling for a moment.

"Tansy and Leticia," I continued the list.

Milo's expression didn't change.

"Who did your trial after that?" Sarah asked. "I've got them in a muddle. Was it the demon woman?"

"Noelle the Guardian? No, she came after the second trial. That was done by Terrin. Following him was the demon—"

Milo's shoulders twitched. I stopped, mentally backing up. "Do you know Terrin?"

His face became as smooth as a mask. "Would you like more coffee?"

Sarah's gaze met mine. It was clear what Milo was trying to tell us between the lines. Which was very interesting, considering all that Terrin had told us.

"No thank you, I'm fine." I took a sip of the coffee before continuing. "I do have another question for you, if you don't mind my apparent nosiness. Do you know the virtue named Hope?"

"Hope!" His face brightened for a moment, then he shot a hunted look over his shoulder toward the door, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Yes, indeed I do know her. She's been a stalwart friend for several centuries. She stood by me when I went through my black time."

"Black time?" Sarah asked.

"Excommunication," he answered. "I lost a great many friends then, but Hope wasn't one of them. She spoke out on my behalf, and almost lost her own position because of that. Fortunately, I was exonerated before any action could be taken against her."

"I see. Do you happen to know where she is now?" I sat back, my hands on my lap, apparently at ease, but oddly nervous, as if some secretive thing lurked in the shadows.

He chuckled. "I'm glad to see you don't put any stock in that ugly rumor that she's dead. I knew you would see through those murder charges sooner or later. Unfortunately, I can't help you find her. I haven't heard from her since before you summoned her."

I opened my mouth to tell him I didn't knowingly summon her, but decided that point wasn't relevant to the conversation. "Do you have any idea where I can find her? We stopped by her flat just before we came here, but the janitor we talked to had no idea where she was. Obviously, I need to find her to prove to the Court that I didn't kill her."

"No idea, I'm afraid," he said, shaking his head. "I wish I could help, but I haven't a clue where she's gone to, although if she was feeling threatened by someone…" He paused a moment, his gaze dropping to his hands. "If she was feeling that her life was in danger, she would take steps to make sure no one found her. I'd guess that she would leave the country, go somewhere no one would think to look for her, and lay low until she felt it safe to emerge again."

My disappointment must have shown on my face.

"I'm sorry," he said again, patting my hand. "I wish I could help you—"

"Milo!"

He jumped and looked around guiltily. His wife stood in the door, giving us a cold-eyed look. "Hello, dear. I was just chatting with our visitors."

"You said you were going to do the shopping before tea," she said pointedly, giving Sarah and me an even colder nod.

"Oh, yes…"

"Thank you for the coffee," I said as Sarah and I stood up, gathering our things. "I appreciate the opportunity to talk with you."

"It's been my pleasure." He escorted us to the front door. I swear waves of coldness rolled off his wife as we scooted past her in the narrow hall. As we reached the door, I paused for a moment, looking straight at his wife. She met my gaze without flinching, one of her eyebrows arching in an unspoken question. The penny dropped at that moment, my mind suddenly wonderfully organized again as the missing piece of the puzzle snapped into place. I forced a smile to my lips, and continued out the door.

"Please don't hesitate to give me a ring if you have any other questions. And thank you for…er…understanding my little deception. I assure you that it was not by my desire," Milo said, waving good-bye.

"Well, that was hardly more than useless," Sarah said as we carefully picked our way down the broken-tiled path to the street. "All we learned was that this Terrin person has it in for you, and that Milo knew Hope well. There's not a lot to go on."

"You don't think so?"

I opened the car door, glancing over the top of the car to look at Milo's house. A curtain in one of the front-facing rooms twitched, as if someone had been peeking out. "I'd have to disagree. I thought the conversation was very enlightening. Very enlightening indeed."

"Really?" She shot me a fast look before pulling out into traffic. "Enlightening in what way?"

"I'll let you know as soon as I talk to Theo."

"Oh, for God's sake…Portia, you're a big girl. Just because you're madly infatuated with Theo, doesn't mean you have to be a doormat. You can talk to me about things before checking with him first."

"Have I ever been a doormat?"

She pursed her lips and didn't answer.

"That's right, I haven't. I'm not waiting to clear the subject with Theo. I simply need to determine if my proof will support the supposition I believe fits the circumstances."

"I hate it when you talk in that horrible empirical way," she grumbled, but knew me too well to do more than voice the complaint.

We drove along in silence for a few minutes before she asked, "Well? Did you discuss it with Theo? Does he agree with your supposition or not?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, I can't talk to him right now. He's in the Court, remember?"

"What does that have to do with the price of tea in China? I thought you guys could talk even if you weren't physically near each other?"

"Normally, we could, but there's something about the Court that inhibits mind-talking."

"Well, isn't that just fine and dandy! Now I'm going to have to wait—"

"Turn left at the intersection."

"—until Theo comes out so you two can discuss whether or not to reveal to me this supersecret insight you seem to have?"

"Left again, please."

"I may be just a normal person without special powers or anything, but that doesn't mean you can treat me like…hey. Isn't this taking us around the block?"

"Yup. There's a parking spot right over there."

Sarah looked to where I was pointing, shooting me a curious glance before pulling in behind a large panel van. "You want to tell me what we're doing back on the street where Milo lives, or is that, too, a big secret?"

"Actually," I said with a grin, "it's probably better if you don't know. That way it can't be said that you were an accessory."

Her mouth made an O for a second, then her curiosity—almost as great as my own—got the better of her. "Dish, sister."

"Taking a leaf from Theo's book, we're going to become kidnappers. Can you see the front door of Milo's house from here?"

"Yes. Why are we kidnapping Milo? I bet if you asked him to come along with us—not that I know where we're going—he'd be happy to do whatever you wanted. He seems like a nice man."

"Yes, doesn't he?" I rubbed my chin, trying to decide on the wisest course.

"I know you're almost a member of the Court of Divine Blood and all, but you still have to live in this world, and here it's illegal as all get out to kidnap someone." Sarah had a familiar pugnacious expression on her face. I just broadened my grin.

"I hate it when you do that," she told my grin.

I sighed and decided it wasn't fair to involve her in something so potentially dangerous. "You're right. It annoys me to admit it, but you are right, Sarah. What I'm about to do is very illegal, and I think that it probably would be best if you weren't involved. I know it's asking a lot, but would you mind leaving me the car? I don't think I can get another one at short notice, and I'm sure there are taxis that can take you back to Newton Poppleford."

"Oh, no, you're not getting away with that crap," she said, taking a firm grip on the steering wheel. "We're in this together, if you recall."

"Our original plans did not call for kidnapping," I pointed out.

"No, but I'm your friend. A friend's place is at your side when you commit felonies. Oooh! Look! Milo! How do we get him into the car?"

My lips thinned as I watched Milo leave his house, walking around the front to the other side, where I assumed a detached garage sat. "We don't."

"I think he's going to get his car. Are we following him?" Sarah asked, her hand on the ignition key.

"No. Duck!"

I doubled over in the passenger seat, having seen a white car emerge from the area behind Milo's house. Sarah hunkered down as well, waiting until the sound of the car passing us had faded.

"All right, now I'm confused…Where are you going?" she asked as I got out of the car.

"To get our victim." My heart was racing as I approached the door to Milo's house, my palms suddenly damp with sweat. "I hope I do this right."

"Do what?"

"I'm going to Taser Milo's wife Carol."