‘You’d think,’ he whispers back. ‘But no, I’m a pathetic vampire after all.’
‘Don’t say that. Your power is just taking a while to come through. It’s different for everyone. Isn’t that right, Hester? You couldn’t shape-shift when you were first turned?’
Green eyes contemplate us from the top of the wall, where she’s sitting, licking her paw.
No, that took a year to come through.
‘She says—’
‘I heard her,’ Elliott interrupts. ‘It took a year.’
I whack his arm, pleased for him. ‘There you go! You can hear Hester. That’s amazing! That’s a great start.’
‘Yeah,’ he says, sounding a bit forlorn.
But before I can encourage him further, Hester leaps off the wall in a flurry of fur.Get down, both of you. Shit shit shit.
I pull Elliott down into the grass with me.
Me:What is it? What did you see?
Hester:A magical mystery bus of horror!
Me:What?
Elliott:Don’t mind me. Just joining in the conversation.
I look at him and beam. It’s the first telepathic communication we’ve ever had.Hell yeah, baby vamp!I hold up a fist, and Elliott grins and bumps it lightly with hisown.
Elliott:A bus you say, Hester?
Hester meows and butts at my hip with her head.Yes, don’t look over the wall whatever you do. Stay out of sight.I’ll go and warn the others.
She bounds off.
Me (muttering):Sorry, Hester, but I need to see this.
Elliott:Yeah,me too.
We inch up the wall until our eyes are level with the top of it. A blast of light hits me right in the retinas, and I wince. Then a black double decker bus is towering over us, strobe lights flashing and dance music playing full bore. As it passes by, I get a quick glimpse of women in their underwear gyrating on the seats and in the aisles. Then another of a blank-faced woman staring out with haunted eyes. She looks right at me; and I duck, but not before I catch a snippet of her thoughts, as if she’s projecting them on purpose in a last-ditch attempt for someone, anyone, to save them.
I scoot back down next to Elliott, and we do a hunched-over run back to the car. ‘That was Alexander and a party bus of thralls,’ I say to the others. ‘There must be at least forty of them in there. I caught the thoughts of one of them. She wants to die.’
‘Oh no, how awful!’ says Floss. ‘We have to help them.’
‘Did you pick up anything else?’ asks Tim.
I bite my lip. ‘No, unfortunately.’
‘I did,’ says Elliott. ‘He’s taking them to London because his Airbnb rental contract ran out. Get his plan, though: he wants to set up a vampire brothel for his fellow Nosferatu in Covent Garden and charge them a premium. Some of the thralls love the idea of being turned, hence the partying. Others not so much.’
That must’ve been the one I saw sitting at the window.
‘But he needs more of his special serum to do that,’ Elliott adds. ‘Since I escaped and Lucy stole his syringes, that could be a problem. But he’s still got all his notes from the mice, so he’s going to try and recreate it synthetically.’
I gape at this. ‘Wow, looks like you’ve got long-range telepathy coming through, which is a great power to have! I’m jelly.’
Elliott takes my hand and squeezes it.
