“The chemist,” he said, slowly. “He lied to us.”
I told you he knew more than he was saying! I told you that right outside his house! Why wouldn’t you listen to me?
“Let’s go,” said Jamie, walking quickly towards the door, the detonator hanging loosely in his hand.
“Go where?” asked Morris, following the teenager out of the house.
“Dartmoor,” answered Frankenstein. “And put your damn foot down.”
The Blacklight team stood on the edge of the moor, checking their equipment. A hundred yards along the road stood the chemist’s neat, pale stone farmhouse, smoke drifting lazily from the red chimney.
“We do this my way,” said Frankenstein, clipping a pair of UV grenades to his belt. “No arguments. The rest of you have had your chance. Is that clear?”
Jamie stared up at the monster, but said nothing. Morris nodded, and Larissa looked away, her eyes still ringed pink from crying.
“Good,” said the monster. “Follow me.”
The giant man led them along the road, the heels of their boots clattering out a steady rhythm on the tarmac. He pushed open the gate, walked quickly along the path and knocked heavily on the front door.
It opened immediately.
“There’s no need to knock,” said the chemist, smiling at them. “I heard you coming from—”
He didn’t finish his sentence. Frankenstein pulled the beam gun from his belt, his hand a blur of grey-green in the night air, levelled it and pulled the trigger. The chemist took the concentrated UV light square in the face. His skin exploded into flames, and he staggered backwards, screaming in pain. Frankenstein looped the hand that was holding the beam gun into the doorway, and the barrel crashed against the chemist’s jaw. Something crunched, and the vampire went to his knees, still screaming, still beating his face with his hands, trying to extinguish the purple flames. Frankenstein kicked the chemist on to his back, and stepped into the house. The rest of the team stared, uncomprehending; the entire assault had taken little more than three seconds, and the suddenness of the violence had frozen them where they stood.
The monster reached down, grabbed the chemist by his hair, and dragged him along the hallway that stood beyond the front door.
“Close the door!” he bellowed. “Get in here and close the door!”
Fear spilled through Jamie as he looked at Frankenstein’s face. The monster’s features were twisted into a snarl of savage, brutal enjoyment. His eyes were bright and alive, and his mouth curled at the corners into a terrible smile. He wanted to run, away from that face, away from the thick smell of burning meat that was emanating from the chemist.
But he knew he couldn’t.
Instead he grabbed Larissa’s arm with his free hand, keeping the detonator out of her reach, and shoved her into the house. She went without protest, her eyes fixed on the smoking figure on the floor. Morris moved on his own, slowly, staring at Frankenstein, and when they were both in the hallway Jamie reached back and slammed the front door shut behind them.
The monster hauled the chemist through the first door on the right and into a large, comfortable sitting room. He knelt down across the vampire’s chest, pulled one of the UV grenades from his belt, and gave it a sharp twist. The red light that signified that the grenade was live lit up on the top of the small sphere, then Frankenstein leant down, prised open the chemist’s jaws, and shoved the grenade into his mouth.
“What are you—” cried Jamie, horrified.
“Shut up!” roared Frankenstein. “Get one of those chairs and put it down next to me! Now!”
Jamie looked around the sitting room, saw a dining table surrounded by six dark wooden chairs standing in the corner, and ran to it. He dragged one of the chairs over to where the monster was kneeling on the helpless, groaning vampire, and glanced down at the chemist’s face.
He wished he hadn’t. The skin was burnt almost completely away from his skull; bright white patches of bone shone out through raw red and charred black. He gulped, and turned away.
Frankenstein lifted the chemist easily from the floor and placed him on the chair. Then he stepped back, lifted the grenade’s detonator into his hand, and stopped next to Jamie. Morris and Larissa stood behind them, silent and terrified.
A terrible sound emerged from the chemist; a rhythmic series of gasps that sounded like a death rattle. Then the vampire lifted his head, trained his burnt eyes on the four figures in front of him, and grinned savagely around the grenade.
It’s laughing. My God, it’s laughing.
“Cover him,” said Frankenstein. Morris fumbled his T-Bone from his belt and trained it on the chemist, and Jamie followed suit.
“You will not move, or say anything,” said the monster, staring evenly at the chemist’s ruined face. “You will answer my questions by nodding or shaking your head. If you refuse to answer, or I think you’re lying, I will press this button, and your head will explode from the inside out. Then I will stake what is left of you. Is that clear?”
The chemist snarled, but nodded his head.
“Good. You lied to us when you told us you knew nothing about Alexandru. Correct?”
Another nod.
“He placed an order with you the day before we arrived. Correct?”
The vampire’s red eyes blazed with hate from his scorched face, but he nodded again.
“Did he ask you to deliver it to an address?”
The chemist shook his head, sending droplets of blood flying in the warm light of the living room.
“Did he send someone to collect it?”
Another shake.
“Did he collect it himself?”
A long pause, and then the faintest of nods.
Jamie gasped.
“He was here?” he asked, his voice trembling. “Was my mother with him?”
The chemist stared at the teenager, and then nodded sharply. Jamie felt as though he was going to be sick; his stomach lurched and saliva splashed into his mouth.
“Was she all right?” he asked. “Was she hurt? Has he hurt her?”
The vampire looked at Frankenstein, who appeared to consider for a moment, then stepped forward and crouched at the chemist’s side, being careful not to block the aims of Jamie and Morris.
“You’re going to spit the grenade into my hand,” he said. “I’m going to put it inside your shirt, and we’re going to continue this conversation. If you move even a millimetre, my colleagues are going to destroy you. Is that clear?”
A frantic nod told the monster that it was, and he held his hand up flat before the chemist’s face. The vampire stretched his torn mouth open, and pushed the grenade out with a black, burnt tongue. It fell into Frankenstein’s hand with a thud. The monster shoved the metal sphere down the front of the white shirt the chemist was wearing, and stepped back.
“You’ll die for this,” spat the chemist, as soon as the huge man was out of reach. “All of you will die for what you’ve done here today.”
“If you don’t be quiet there will be death in this room,” replied Frankenstein. “But it will be yours, and yours alone. Alexandru placed an order with you five days ago, the day before he attacked Jamie and his mother. When did he arrive to collect it?”
“Three days ago,” snarled the chemist, his eyes fixed on the monster. “But