‘A vam-paw-ire!’ I cackled. Neither of my companions appeared amused.
‘That is not funny,’ Penelope said. ‘I would go so far as to say that pathetic attempt at a joke sucked.’
Our eyes met. I pressed my lips together while Penelope’s expression remained bland, but then a small giggle escaped her and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I burst out laughing and within seconds the pair of us were laughing together, while She Without An Ear huffed, rolled onto her paws and walked awayfrom us. She was clearly embarrassed to be seen in our company.
‘It was not funny,’ Penelope managed, once our laughter finally subsided.
‘Not remotely,’ I agreed. ‘I have to admit, I never thought I’d end up in fits of mirth with a vampire.’
‘It is possible to have fangsanda sense of humour. We are more guarded around people we do not know, that is all.’
If I’d been wiser, I would have kept my mouth shut but I’d come this far so I said it anyway. ‘You are when those people are sun dwellers who live short lives and who die far too frequently compared to those who live for centuries.’
I drew in a breath and repeated her motto. ‘Trust in the fang and the fang alone,’ I whispered. ‘In other words, stick to your own kind if you’re a vampire or you’ll suffer – in more ways than one.’
The last of the humour vanished from her red eyes. ‘You are not as stupid as you look.’
I decided to take that in the manner in which it was intended and treat it as a compliment. ‘Thank you.’
Penelope’s lips thinned and her shoulders tightened. ‘People always say that vampires are cold, heartless creatures. I would not disagree. Wearecold. Weareheartless. I do not say this as an excuse but rather as an explanation. Our attitude is a result of watching too many friends and family die over too many years.’
I didn’t move a muscle or make a sound. I sensed that Penelope was opening up and baring her soul in a manner that she hadn’t done in years; in fact, I wasn’t sure any vampire had ever exposed themselves like this to someone without fangs. The last thing I wanted to do was interrupt her.
She cleared her throat. ‘One never becomes adept at navigating grief. It does not hurt less because you have experiencedit many times. If anything,’ she said, as much to herself as to me, ‘it hurts more.’
I was tempted to open my arms and hug her but I knew she would be horrified if I tried. ‘I can’t understand what that’s like,’ I told her. ‘And I don’t want to understand. I can’t imagine anything worse. I’m sorry. I am one of those who’ve always believed that vampires are unfeeling and callous. I should have taken the time to learn otherwise.’
‘It is not your fault. It is an attitude we cultivate in order to protect ourselves.’
That part I fully understood because I did something similar with my cat-lady routine. I shifted my weight awkwardly; I wasn’t often lost for words but right now I had no idea what to say. Maybe it would be best if I walked away and left her in peace. Maybe my companionship was proving too much for her.
She examined my face then, in an oddly stilted tone, she said, ‘Would you like to go for a drink, Kit?’
I started; that was the last thing I’d been expecting her to say. ‘I think we’ve established that drinking blood isn’t my thing.’
‘Not blood, a real drink. Unless you want to find Tiger’s route and follow it for clues?’
Wandering through more tunnels was the last thing I wanted to do; besides, I felt I owed Penelope this. I smiled. ‘You know what? I would really like a drink.’
She ledthe way and at first I wasn’t sure where she was heading. We wandered past the market and into a tunnel I’d not yet been through. Less than fifty metres along there was a saloon-style door. Huh. A real vampire pub. Whoknew?
She Without An Ear didn’t hesitate: with her tail held high, she scooted underneath the door. I was slightly more cautious. ‘What is this place?’
Penelope looked anxious, which surprised me. ‘We call it The Den. It’s a social club for vampires.’
I reached for my increasingly crumpled map of the Understream and traced my finger through the tunnels until I found it. ‘We’re directly underneath Hirsel Street, aren’t we?’ I asked, referring to Coldstream’s party district with all its pubs and clubs.
‘Yes.’
‘Is there an access point to the above from here?’
Reluctance flickered in Penelope’s eyes but she nodded.
‘The whisky bar?’ That place was full of old bottles worth ridiculous amounts of money. I’d seen plenty of vampires in there over the years. They probably owned the entire space from down here all the way up.
‘No.’
‘The speakeasy? It has a hidden entrance and the Understream has a hidden entrance.’ Secrets upon secrets made a sort of poetic sense.
