Jamie knew that he should be with Ellison and Qiang, getting ready for the Patrol Respond they would be embarking on in less than an hour. The amendment to the Operational SOP – that they were to bring vampires back to the Loop alive from now on – had arrived on their consoles ninety minutes earlier and he should have been discussing such a radical change of policy with his squad mates. In the current climate, with public anger rampant and incidents of violence occurring with dizzying frequency, carrying out the new order was going to be fraught with difficulty; it was, Jamie knew from long experience, extremely difficult to subdue a vampire that didn’t want to be subdued.
Killing them was a lot easier.
There had been no explanation for the change in SOP. Jamie had heard the subject being discussed at length as he made his way down through the Loop, thanks to his supernatural hearing, and the prevailing view seemed to be that it was a PR exercise, a way for Blacklight to try and improve their standing among the sections of the population who believed that vampires deserved the same treatment as humans. None of the Operators – or at least, none that he had overheard – had raised the possibility that had immediately occurred to him as he read the new orders, a possibility that he dearly, desperately hoped was the truth.
Matt and his team have made a breakthrough, he thought. And we’re bringing them vampire test subjects. I’m absolutely sure of it.
Jamie heard his mother stop moving and resumed his usual pace, his boots clicking on the floor beneath him. He wanted to talk to Kate about the change of orders, and he really wanted to find Matt and ask him what was going on, but he needed to see his mother first, despite the guilt he felt whenever he did so.
The previous evening, in the officers’ mess, he had told Kate the truth about his reasons for not telling his mother that his father was still alive. He knew that Kate – and Matt too, in all likelihood – thought it was a selfish decision, a way for him to get back at his dad and exercise power over a situation in which he had been left in the dark for so long, but that genuinely wasn’t the case. He had not told her, and would not tell her, because he could see no good that could come from it, and because he had no desire to cause his mother more pain than she had already suffered.
He knew that it was very likely the same rationale that Frankenstein would use for not having told him the truth about his father, and as such placed him dangerously close to hypocrisy, but he was sure, deep down, that it was not the same thing. Had he been told the truth, he could have done something about his father being alive, helped him, or brought him in, or something. Whereas there was nothing his mother could do from inside her cell, and it would only be cruel to increase her feelings of helplessness. When this was all over, when Dracula rose or fell and Blacklight survived or was destroyed, he would tell her, and take the consequences of his decision on the chin.
Jamie walked out in front of the UV wall that sealed his mother’s cell and smiled. She was sitting on their old sofa with a magazine in her hands, and looking up at him with a ludicrously unconvincing expression of surprise, as if trying to make it clear that she definitely hadn’t known he was coming and definitely hadn’t scrambled to give the cell a quick once-over before he arrived.
“Hello, love,” she said, and gave him a wide smile. “It’s nice to see you. Are you coming in?”
“Hey, Mum,” he said. “I was planning to, if that’s all right?”
“Of course,” she said.
His mother got up and busied herself with the tea tray as he pressed his ID card against the black panel on the wall. The purple barrier disappeared and he stepped into the cell, leaving the front open behind him; it was a violation of basic security procedures to do so, but he doubted he could find a single person inside the Loop who believed his mother represented any kind of a threat.
“Here you go,” said Marie, holding out a steaming mug. He thanked her, took it from her hand, and settled on to the sofa as she lowered herself into the armchair opposite.
“How are you, Jamie?” she asked.
“I’m all right, Mum. Yourself?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” she said. “Not a lot really happens down here.”
“I suppose not,” he said. “Doesn’t Valentin visit you any more?”
“He does,” said Marie. Her eyes narrowed slightly, as though she wasn’t sure whether she had said the right thing. “It’s nice to see another person now and again.”
“I bet,” said Jamie. He had avoided even glancing into the ancient vampire’s cell as he passed it, but had still been able to feel Valentin’s eyes following him.
“What about you?” she asked. “Still no word from Larissa?”
Jamie grimaced. “No, Mum,” he said. “No word from her.”
“Oh,” said Marie, and forced a smile. “Well, I’m sure there will be soon.”
Jamie laughed. “Why would you think that?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Why would you think we’ll hear from her soon, Mum? She left in the middle of the night without saying goodbye and she removed her chip so that nobody would know where she’d gone. Does that sound like the behaviour of someone who’s about to have a change of heart and come home?”
“I don’t know,” said Marie. “I’m sure she had her reasons.”
“Yeah,” said Jamie. “Me. I’m the reason.”
His mother shook her head. “That’s ridiculous, Jamie. Why would you say something so stupid?”
“We had a huge fight that evening,” he said. “You know we did. And three hours later she was gone. You can’t tell me to pretend there’s no link between the two?”
“I’m not saying that,” said Marie. “I just don’t like to see you being so hard on yourself. I didn’t know Larissa, but I don’t believe anyone would throw away their entire life because they had a fight with their boyfriend. What was it about, Jamie? Can you even remember? Because I bet it wasn’t anything important.”
He bit his tongue. His memory of that evening, of their argument and what it had been about, was crystal clear, but he could not tell his mother that.
“You’re right, Mum,” he said. “I can’t remember.”
He sipped his tea as his mother stared at him, a sympathetic expression on her face. He gave her a thin smile, but her gaze didn’t change; it was unnerving.
“What?” he asked, eventually. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re a teenager, Jamie,” she said, her voice low and gentle. “Only for another couple of years, but you’re still one now, and teenagers never believe their parents have ever been through anything that might be relevant to what’s happening to them. But I would hope you remember that you’re not the only person in this room who knows what it’s like to lose someone they love.”
Jamie felt his heart lurch in his chest. “I’m really sorry,” he said. “It’s not the same thing, I know it isn’t. I just miss her, Mum. There, I said it. I know you weren’t her biggest fan and I know part of you thinks I’m better off without her, but I really miss her.”
His mother gave him a fierce smile. “I know you do, Jamie,” she said. “Did you know my parents didn’t approve of your father when we got together? Did I ever tell you that?”
Good judges of character, thought Jamie, and instantly chastised himself for such unnecessary viciousness.
“No,” he said. “I didn’t know that.