Burning the Stubble 1/3 Disclaimer The characters and ideas contained herein are the property of Messrs Parriot, Cohen and Sony/Tristar. No infringement of their rights is intended. This work is copyright to Spike Shovelton as are any original characters. Archive permission given to Mel for the fkfanfic site and to Cousin Mary if she wants it. Comments are welcome at blot30@hotmail.com but flames are most assuredly unwelcome. There are spoilers here for Last Knight. I don't think there is any explicit sex or bad language, but as usual it's PG-13, simply because some of the themes are not aimed at children. In a change to my usual madness this one is Tracy and Screed focused. The title is taken from a poem by Jon Stallworthy and no infringement of his copyright is intended. My thanks go to Cousin Mary for beta reading this, and making sure Screed sounded right. Burning the Stubble 1/3 He looked down at the figure in the hospital bed, kept alive only by the network of tubes and computers. She looked still beautiful in the white bed. He was reminded of the old tales of sleeping princesses, as he lifted one hand to touch the soft fair hair that lay tousled on the pillow. He had admired her from the first, had desired her from the moment that Vachon brought her down to the sewer. She had been so scared, but had hidden her fear in babble about the sanitation and the stench in the sewer. So beautiful, Vachon was a fool to have left her living, not to have claimed her. His sewer had smelt of apricots and flowers for almost a week after her visit. His friend was dead now and he was alive. Vachon and Urs were both dead, and Bourbon, killed by the Gestapo in 1944. He was alone again, for carouches have few friends. He could not accept that so he had come here. Hard to believe that his friends were all gone. He had woken up in a grave by the sea and had dug his way out. Obviously the sickness had passed away and he was alive, or as alive as he could be. So he had gone to the church and found it empty and barred, and gone to the Raven and found that everyone was packing and leaving. He had even asked Lacroix what had happened and Lacroix had told him about Nicholas, and about having to deal with the situation. Then he had asked about Tracy and the old vampire had told him the truth. Screed found that wholly unacceptable and so here he was. Trying to summon the courage to act. He had listened to her parents, her mother wanting the machines left on, and her father wanting them switched off. Even if he brought her across, it was not clear whether she would be brain dead or alive. If he brought her across and she was insane then he would have to kill her. He wondered why he was standing around watching her and he walked to the bedside and brushed the hair away from her smooth white throat. Then he let his fangs drop, as he could smell her blood. It took only a minute and then he switched off the machines and arranged for her to be pronounced dead. Screed watched as his new childe came around and fed her gently through first hunger. She was so perfect in his arms, even in a cheap hospital gown she looked beautiful. He wondered if Vachon would mind if he were to love her? It would be very easy; she was a beautiful woman and a challenging one. He didn't even need to persuade her, as her maker he had rights over her, could do what he wanted, break her, beat her, rape her, even destroy her and nothing, no law of man or vampire could stop him. He shivered at that thought. No he would never do that to her. He had never liked pain. As a gutter brat in London he had needed to fight off abusers and paedophiles and hadn't always succeeded. Unlike Vachon and Bourbon he had only ever gone for willing women, and there were enough of those around. He looked down at the sleeping fledgling in his arms. No it would be a cold day in hell before he hurt her. He would just wait and see what happened. Perhaps she would fall in love with him. "Yeah an' piggies can fly." He said out loud and her eyes fluttered open. "Easy now fruit. Don't fret, Ol' Screed be 'ere." "Screed?" The eyes were gold but turned blue. Tracy looked around, aware that she was not in hospital. "You're dead. Am I dead?" "Rumours of me death be much exaggerated like." Screed said and studied her. "I woked up an' saw as ya'd been 'urt so I come to the 'ospital and brung ya over." "You did what?" Tracy sat up and then regretted it. "You brought me across?" She looked at him and tried to put this together. "So I'm a vampire, and a carouche?" "Fraid so." He looked at her. "I fed yer on cows, so yer won't be stealing me squeakers." "Cow is good." Tracy said and took in a deep breath. She could do this, could cope with this change in her life. Who was she kidding? This was not what she had planned. "Thanks for bringing me across." Screed looked at her, still probably in shock after what had happened. That was understandable. He hadn't really expected her to declare her undying love for him, had he? No he couldn't seriously expect that. "My pleasure, fruit. Now we needs to leave Toronto." "Why?" Tracy looked at him, surprised by how gentle his eyes were, for a vampire. "Oh, I'm meant to be dead." "Right, so we needs to be elsewhere." He looked at her. "Would yer like ter see the Smoke?" She looked blank. "London I means." Tracy saw the wistful look in his eyes. He clearly wanted her to go there, and who was she to refuse? "Okay then." It wasn't as though she had any better plans. She was still stunned that she wasn't dead and neither was he. "Good, then let's be off." Screed grinned at her. "Yer'll like London, lots of nice things ter do.". She did like London, and flying and learning to use her new skills. Being a carouche made it easier in some ways to become accustomed to this form of life. Interacting with mortals was not so difficult as the hunger was muted. Screed had a house in one of the commuter suburbs of London, a middle class semi-detached house with a postage stamp garden. Apparently somewhere so normal was good cover. He introduced her to the neighbours and the Neighbourhood watch as his cousin and they settled into suburban life. Eight months into their stay she woke up one afternoon to find Screed polishing his shoes with an expression of grim determination. "What is it?" Tracy asked as she poured herself breakfast. "We're going ter see some'un, yer needs some clothes." He said and Tracy looked at him. "Then get packed for a weekend away." "What is going on?" Tracy asked and the other carouche sighed. "I have lots of clothes." The problem had been stopping him from buying her things. Screed had been impossibly generous, as she had been able to take very little with her. He had given her an account and an allowance. Now that the fuss had died down she had gone back to the police. Anything high profile was out of the question, but she was in uniform as a desk sergeant at a small unremarkable police station. The police was very addictive, she had wanted to be back there and had promised that at the first sign of trouble they would move on. It was not very well paid, but Screed still kept giving her things. Then again she had insisted on paying some of the bills. She was still trying to persuade him not to buy her everything she admired. "Summat expensive." Screed said quickly. Tracy frowned. They tended to avoid community places, as carouches were not always well tolerated. It had been refreshingly normal in fact. "Screed." Tracy said quickly and the carouche looked at her. "What is going on?" "Me maker arst us to see 'er. She wants a look at ya." He said quickly. "Iffens she don't like ya then us could 'ave problems see." "Right." Tracy looked at him. Screed was not given to worrying so this had to be something serious. "She'll like me." Screed nodded, trying not to worry too much. He just hoped she did. This time he took her to the designer shops and Tracy found herself enjoying the chance to buy the sort of clothes that were off limits on a police salary. Once they had bought a ballgown, two smart suits and two casual outfits he sent her to Rigby & Peller, who made bras for the Queen, and who ran the most exclusive underwear shop in London. He told her to buy what she wanted. "Do appearances matter so much?" Tracy asked as they loaded their stuff into the car. "No I just wants her to know that I values yer enough to spend money. Especially as she's giving a party for the top nobs in the community." Screed said and looked at her. "I gotcha something." He held out a small box and Tracy opened it and whistled as she looked at the expensive gold seal ring. "Status matters see, I wants 'em ter know yer not just a groupie." "Oh Screed it's beautiful." Tracy looked down at the heavy ring. "I love it." She walked over and kissed him on the cheek. Screed started at the unexpected and pleasant embrace. "Tracy." He said and she looked at him. "Iffen anyun touches ya then ya gots ta tell me. Otherwise it 'fects me status, implies I can'ts protect me property." He saw the fury on her face. "I know, but it's 'ow it works. We be quite feudal. I wants ya word." "You have my word." Tracy smiled. "Tell me about your maker. What is her name?" "Rachel." He said and smiled quickly. "She was the purtiest woman I ever set me peepers on." "How did you meet her?" Tracy was intrigued by this story. Screed had never mentioned his maker. "Long story." They climbed into the car and set off into the night. Flashback, London 1586 Ey Screed, c'mere and cast yer peepers on that." Martins beckoned the other sailor onto deck and over to the rail. "What d'yer think?" "Blimey I could go fer that." Hawk indicated the woman standing by the dockside. "How much yer think she charges?" "Yer thinks she's fer sale?" Screed asked with interest. "Course she is, else she wouldn't be dahn 'ere. All the whores come dahn 'ere, mind she's purtier than most." Martins smiled grimly. Screed looked at the beautiful figure on the dockside, hair escaping from the coiffure like black waves. He had not seen a woman for three months, and that had been the captain's mother, had not had one in almost a year. Something about this one said class, though. Seamen were not well paid, he knew he would not be able to afford this one. He could always try one of the cheap whorehouses, but there was no guarantee that they wouldn't roll him, or give him a dose of the pox. He was called away by the first mate calling them to order. Screed sighed, he did not mind being at sea. He had grown up in an alley, son of a diseased whore, and one of her customers. He had dragged himself up, and done quite well as a pickpocket and thief, until he had been press-ganged. At least he was fed with some regularity here, and it was okay, if you kept your nose down and did as you were told. Discipline was harsh, but if he had remained in London he'd probably have wound up doing the Tyburn jig sooner or later so it didn't make much odds. He turned to go and as he did so the woman on the dock looked over at him and smiled, her full red lips curving as she did so. It was good to see London again. He smiled, as he smelt the foetid air of the Thames and saw the Tower rising out of the river. When the men were given their leave, and the warning of what would happen if they ran away, Screed went down to the rookeries of his childhood, to see what had changed, and to get hold of some beer. As he walked down the street he heard Hawk and Martin talking loudly by a pub. They were talking to the beautiful prostitute. "Your pardon, but I am not interested." The woman said clearly, her tone educated and slightly accented. "You are if we sez so, now come 'ere." Martin smiled viciously. He was cruel and quite brutal. Screed knew that Martin abused some of the younger cabin boys but it was best to say nothing. "Yeah, I want a piece of her too." The men began to drag the woman into the alley. "Mates." Screed said, wondering why he was bothering to exert himself over a whore. The woman struggled, clearly not wanting to go. "I don't see why yer botherin' there's plenty of willing ones and she don't seem innerested." "We wants this one." Martin said quickly. "Don't matter what she wants." "No?" The woman smiled, and it was edged with cruelty. "Lads, let's try the house round the corner, there's girls enough." Screed wondered why he was making an issue of this. "Yer mekking trouble?" Martin pulled out a knife and grinned savagely. Screed sighed. He did not have many scruples, he would roll the nobs, take their rings, steal most things from most people, but he did not approve of forcing people, he had fought off enough people himself as a lad. He sighed quickly as Martin moved towards him and they turned down the alley so nobody could see. He soon knocked Martin out and Hawk turned and ran. The woman smiled, revealing long white teeth. Screed moved towards her, shaking his head. "What happened?" "The prey became the hunter." She responded and studied him. "On the one hand I am grateful that you would attempt to defend me, on the other you have stolen my dinner, and that annoys me." She looked at the unconscious one. "Will you get in trouble for this?" "Probably, it don't matter." Screed looked at her. "Yer need owt? Can I walk yer 'ome? If yer hungry, there's a pie shop not so far away. I'll stand yer dinner." He wouldn't be able to afford a woman if he did, but he had been hungry enough to want to help her. "How generous." The woman laughed. "Why did you defend me?" She moved forwards, seeming to glide over the ground. "I don't like forcing folk against their wish like." Screed said and the woman nodded. "You have potential, it would be wasted on this life. You deserve something a little better than dying of pox or fever like the rest of the animals who live here. If you serve me, then the rewards could be many." She shrugged one shoulder. "If you don't then you are as good as dead, I am becoming hungry." She smiled and Screed watched as her eyes changed colour. She extended one hand and he moved forward. She was so beautiful, even with teeth like a demon and glowing eyes. He looked at her and extended his hand, not even thinking about being afraid. She kissed him and he could smell her scent, and beneath it her cleanliness. She smelled so wonderfully clean, and he did not dare to touch her, lest he sully her. He flinched at the razor sharp points entering his skin. End Flashback. "So how long did you spend with her?" Tracy asked. "Close on thirty year." Screed grinned. "She be carouche too, but she sometimes 'unts. She liked the sport I reckon." Tracy looked at the ring on her finger. "What does this mean?" "Me seal." He explained and paused for a moment. "If Rachel gives us one room, like. Don't argue about it. Fact, don't argue with her at all if ya can 'elp it." "Right." Tracy smiled. Screed was a good maker. This was the first time he had asked anything of her. "Stop worrying, it'll be fine." "I 'ope so." Screed studied her. She was beautiful his Tracy but so stubborn and independent. He felt guilty that Vachon wasn't there, but a part of him felt pleased that his friend was gone, because she was his now. Then he felt guilty for feeling pleased. Screed shook his head. If he didn't watch out he'd be brooding as much as Knight. "So how old is she?" Tracy asked and he smiled. "Old. She once said she knew Solomon." Screed smiled. "I never knowed if that were right." "No." Tracy said. "Anything else I need to know?" "Don't contradict me in company." He said. They often had this problem when they went out. Tracy found the deferring to your sire part hard to manage. She just wasn't used to being subservient. "It looks as how I can't control yer." "I know, I just don't like it." Tracy explained. "I always had to stand up for myself." "Pet. I wouldn't make yer do anything yer didn't want. I ain't never done it like that. Thing is, I has the right and they knows it." She nodded as they drove up the M1 motorway to the north. "Fine, I can do company manners." Tracy smiled at him. Screed was right, he did have the power over her, he just never chose to use it. He was very gentle with her. She knew from talking to other young vampires in the clubs how unpleasant and demanding their makers could be. Then again they thought it laughable that she should be a carouche. She did not know why. Tracy had come to be proud of what she was. She did not need to kill people, drink human blood. She was just as good as any of the others. She looked at the heavy seal ring on her finger. It was good that Screed wanted to inform the community that she was off limits. He was teaching her to shield her signal but she couldn't always maintain it, and sometimes her youth was clear. Tracy ran a hand through her hair. She had been to enough formal and tedious parties, played the office politics game, learned to control her temper, she was even good at it. "How far are we going?" "To Nottingham." He responded and drove on. "She 'as a place there." End of Part One Burning the Stubble 2/3 By Spike Shovelton See Part One for disclaimer They turned up the road towards Sherwood Forest and off down a lane. "Here we is." Screed pointed to a gothic monstrosity on a hill. "That'll be Carfax where Rachel lives." "You're joking, surely." Screed shook his head. "Carfax?" "Aye, pig ugly ain't it?" Screed smirked. "Rachel was fair cracked to buy it, but she likes it." Tracy studied the large country house and looked at Screed. "For a moment I thought it was going to be a big house." She said deadpan and he looked at her before bursting into laughter. She tended to have that effect on him. He parked in the grounds and they walked up to the door and Screed knocked. A slender dark haired man let them in and smiled. "She's in the conservatory, expecting you." "Ta Matthew." He said and smiled at her. "Come on then." Once they went into the conservatory Tracy studied the figure in the armchair. She was a tall elegant woman with black hair and olive golden skin. Tracy was reminded of a religious postcard that a friend had sent her of Judith and Holofernes. The beautiful woman standing over the man as she danced, her hand on his face as she brought out a knife to kill him. This woman looked a lot like Judith. "Thaddeus." She studied him and extended her hand. Tracy watched as her maker took and kissed it. "My son, it pleases me to see you." Tracy hid a smile, his name was Thaddeus? No wonder he had refused to tell her. "I 'ad forgotten yer were so lovely Rachel." Screed said and looked at her. "Yer looks well." "I am very well." The other responded, speaking English with a slight accent. "You have been reproducing I see." She walked over and looked down at Tracy, walking around her as one studying a new horse. "What is her name?" "Tracy Vetter." Screed said and put a hand on her shoulder. "I see." The woman reached for Tracy's face and tugged on a lock of fair hair. "Good taste." Tracy sighed and took in a deep breath at this. "Not bad at all." Her eyes went to the signet ring. "I have a friend who likes pretty blondes. He would enjoy her." She saw the scowl on Screed's face and Tracy bit her lip, wanting to say something but responding to the signal her maker was sending. "You know I am your sire and you can refuse me nothing." "Mebbee so, but she be mine, and anyone touches her dies." Screed said. "That will 'old against everyone." "You must be quite smitten." The brunette smiled and her eyes softened and she turned back to Tracy. "Is she loyal to our family?" "Arsk her." Screed responded. "She can speak for 'erself." "Of course." The elder turned to Tracy and pinned her with sharp eyes. "I need for my family to be loyal, and to place their trust in me. Will you do that?" Tracy knew that she should agree and it was expected that she would. "I keep my word. As a police officer I served the force, and the people. I give you my respect, but trust and loyalty really should be earned. Shouldn't they?" Screed drew in a sharp breath and the other woman paused before chuckling softly. "You are quite right. Those who trust too easily do not live long." She smiled then. "I think I see why my son wanted you." She turned to her son. "Thaddeus why don't you fetch us something to drink." She said and Screed nodded, hearing the dismissal in the voice. Once he had gone Rachel turned to Tracy in amusement. "He is sometimes difficult, my son." "I couldn't ask for a better master." Tracy protested and Rachel studied her before nodding. "You truly believe that?" Tracy nodded. "Do you love him?" "Of course, he's a wonderful man, a great friend." Tracy smiled. "I see." Rachel sighed heavily. "I had hoped for more. Thaddeus is dear to me." She studied the other. "I understand you were a friend of Vachon's. How did you meet Thaddeus?" Tracy nodded and let the elder question her. Rachel asked her everything from her past, to her future plans, and political and ethical views. The elder gave no clue as to whether these views pleased her. It was difficult to answer some of the questions. Finally the elder sat back and looked at Tracy. "I see now why Thaddeus asked for you to be protected." Tracy looked surprised. "He did tell you that I am an enforcer?" "No." Tracy said and the other sighed. "I am one of the senior enforcers of the code. Thaddeus called me from Toronto said that a friend of his had broken the code. I knew of course, in fact the enforcers were debating termination orders. He asked me to remove you from that." Rachel smiled at the wide-eyed blonde. "He took responsibility for you." "He never said." Tracy responded and the other shrugged. "He wouldn't." Rachel responded. "He took responsibility for you, agreed to guarantee your behaviour with his life. If you had endangered the community then he would have been killed." "I had no idea." Tracy looked at the other as the conservatory door opened. Screed came in with a bottle and three glasses. "Now you do. Thaddeus, pour us drinks." Rachel commanded. Tracy felt a sudden pleasure that Screed never ordered her to do anything in that tone. She rose to help him and Rachel motioned her to sit. "He can pour them. In my view, men should make life more comfortable for women." "That has merit." Tracy said and smiled. The elder was prickly and not an easy friend. Tracy had a sudden memory of Jane Austen books. She felt like Lizzie Bennett visiting Lady Catherine de Burgh. Quite what that made Screed she did not know. Tracy sipped the wine and then smiled. Sheep's blood fortunately. "Now, you must be tired." The elder said quickly. "Plus you will need to unpack. The rest of the guests will arrive just before dawn. Come back here then." She rang a bell and Matthew reappeared. "Show this one to her room." Tracy left, well aware that she was being dismissed. She followed the tall vampire out of the conservatory and down several corridors. "You don't have a map?" She asked and he turned and a smile crossed his face. "It is a bit difficult." He said and looked at her. "I think we must be related. I'm Matthew Smith. I am Rachel's butler." "Butler?" Tracy asked in amazement. "Local colour for the tourists. I was a footman in the eighteenth century. I saw something I shouldn't and like an idiot I spoke about it." He smiled at his folly. "She said I might like to consider joining them or I might like to consider dying. I considered it and she brought me over." "Do you mind it?" Tracy asked and he shrugged. "Beats the life I would have had." He smiled. "Rachel is an incredible woman. When I first saw her I thought she was a goddess. One of the young lords I served made a derogatory remark and I wanted to kill him. She didn't let me. I don't need to be her butler but I like being with her." "Good." Tracy said as they came to one end door. "Is this my room?" "Yes. You and Thaddeus share a bathroom but you have your own room." He let her in. "Would you like me to call you when the guests arrive?" "Yes please." Tracy said and he nodded and turned to go. "You're not a prisoner, but I would advise you not to go wandering off." Was his parting remark and he left. Tracy smiled and went to the wardrobe. Her cases had been unpacked and she smiled as she stretched. She took a long bath and then stretched out on the bed. She could take a hint. In a house of vampires and enforcers it might not be good to go exploring. She let her eyes fall shut. Screed looked at her for a moment and drew in a sudden breath. That was a sight to tempt a priest. She was wrapped in a towel, covering her from just above her knees to her elegant throat. She was so perfect, the navy blue towel making her skin seem paler and her legs went on forever. He wanted to take her and make her his love. Rachel had called him a fool for being so gentlemanly but he liked having her around too much to frighten her off. He walked over to the bed and looked down at her and a line of verse crept into his mind. "A sweet disorder in the dress, kindles in clothes a wantonness." He murmured. When he had come across, Rachel had taught him to read and write and appreciate classics and poetry and music, how to please a woman in bed, and how to dance with one. She had tried and failed to iron out his accent, the one thing he refused to yield. Still he had learnt so much else from her, even if they could not agree on everything. She had told her friend George about trying to teach Screed correct English and failing, and her friend had used her idea in a play and not even given her credit for the idea, or a share of the royalties from the musical. He sent out a mental feeler and watched as Tracy woke up slowly, blinking, her eyelids fluttering open. He kept being surprised by the colour of her eyes. She reached under the pillow before turning to him. She seemed to react by instinct, reaching for the gun and stake under her pillow, even though she no longer carried either. "Screed." She said and looked at him with a smile. "Time to face the enemies?" "I reckon so." He responded and smiled at her. He walked to the desk and poured her a glass of wine and handed it to her. "Rachel liked ya." "She's quite dangerous." Tracy looked at her master and drank the wine down. "Is she trustworthy?" "Aye. I've trusted 'er with me life more than once. She ain't never let me down. Just don't cross 'er." "Noted." Tracy looked at him. "Give me ten minutes to get ready." Tracy was introduced to more people than she wanted to remember. More even than the mayor of Toronto's tediously dull parties. She found the faces beginning to blend together by the time they were released and allowed to go back to sleep. There was to be a formal ball the following evening. Tracy studied herself in the mirror. The ballgown was exquisite; then again it had been an exquisite price. Screed had told the shop assistant that money was no object but that it must not be black. The gown was red and cream. The top part was delicate, shimmery creamy silk, off the shoulder with a scooped neckline. It was drawn in at the waist before the deep red velvet skirts billowed out. A very simple design, but so well cut that it suited her. Then again Frank Usher made beautiful dresses. As she turned to go she saw Screed standing beside her. He looked very good in a tuxedo. The rich scarlet cummerbund and white shirt accentuated a surprisingly muscular physique. He would never be handsome but he looked quite distinctive. "I gots a pressie for yer." He held out a box to her and Tracy opened it and whistled at the contents. She looked at the beautiful diamond and ruby pendant on the gold chain. "That's beautiful." She murmured and touched the stones. "How old is it?" "A couple of centuries." He admitted. "French, at the revolution ya could get great bargains. Belonged to a duchess." He wondered at the expression on her face. "Don't yer like it?" Tracy swallowed. Nobody had given her something so valuable. Oh men had given her jewellery more than once. Yet never without wanting something back, sex or whatever. Her father had given her gifts, among them the pearl earrings she was now wearing. Screed had stolen them from her flat before they had left town along with her teddybear and a few other things she couldn't leave behind, remnants of her old life. Gifts from her father always tasted of bribes. Screed gave her a beautiful antique pendant and had never asked for more than she wanted to give. She turned to look at him and smiled, a smile so bitterly sweet that he wanted to cry. "It's beautiful and I love it." Tracy walked over and turned. "Put it on me." He did so, leaning up on tiptoes. Tracy giggled; it was so funny that in these heels she was taller than he was. She turned and looked into his unshielded eyes, wondering at the depth of emotion. "Thanks." She leaned over to kiss his cheek but he turned at the same time and her lips brushed his. Screed shivered as the contact between them intensified the link between them. Her blood was so sweet he could almost taste it. He had not tasted her since he had brought her across and he had never forgotten the taste of her blood, fresh tropical fruits and flowers, like the breath of a lost desert island, despite the drugs and sickness in it. He desired her more than anything imaginable and he slid one hand into her glossy hair as he drew her towards him. Tracy enjoyed being held. It was so good to feel arms around her. His kiss was probing and for a moment she enjoyed it. Then she paused. This was Screed, had she lost her mind? Tracy felt herself withdraw. Her maker had never told her that he wanted anything of that sort from her. Screed felt it too and looked into her enormous blue eyes. "Sorry about that." Tracy shrugged. "We'd better." She took a deep breath. "Better go down to the party." "Yeah." Screed watched as she glided across the room, a shimmer of red and ivory. He could not keep his eyes off her the whole evening, watching as she danced and laughed and talked with the community. She was good at the socialising game. "You ought to take action." Rachel looked at her son in amused pleasure. "You want her, in fact I've rarely seen you so attached." "T'aint like that." Screed said and looked at his maker. She was lovely in a shimmering turquoise gown, looking like something from a film about the decadent middle east. "She still loves V Man." "But dead lovers are hardly warm in your arms." Rachel said in amusement. "I still love my husband, and he has been dead for almost 3 millennia. I think if you don't act then someone else might." She pointed to the black clad figure at the edge of the dancefloor. "Lucius is excellent in bed, but I think he would be too cold for her, too self willed." "'Im?" Screed looked at the old vampire. "I dun't think so." "Faint heart and all that." Rachel smiled but her eyes were as cold as eternity. "Vachon was your friend and I respect that, but I think she is too constant for him." Tracy sighed as she poured herself another drink. She was quite enjoying the socialising, but it was worrying that everyone else was three times her age. She couldn't escape the feeling that there was more going on here than she thought. This was a house party, true enough but all the same. "This isn't the junior chamber of commerce Brad." She murmured. "They're probably foreigners, with ways different than our own." Came an amused voice and Tracy turned, recognising it. Since coming across she had not seen anyone from Toronto. They had looked for Nick but been unable to find him. To see his frighteningly old maker was chilling. "General." Tracy said and took his extended hand. "A pleasure to see you again." Her face contradicted her words. "The pleasure is all mine." Lacroix responded and looked at her. "You are more lovely than I imagined. May I have the next dance?" "Of course." Tracy said with no enthusiasm. "You can tell me how Nick is doing." "Very well I believe." He said. "He is in Baltimore with his sister Janette." "Natalie?" Tracy asked and he put one finger to his lips and paused for a moment. Tracy felt a sudden fear. She had heard rumours that Natalie had joined them, but nothing reliable. Tracy had a dreadful sense of foreboding. Had something happened to Natalie? A couple of people had asked her how her partner and his girlfriend were doing and it made her wonder even more. "She is okay?" "Quite well." He responded and took her hand and led her onto the dancefloor. Tracy did not trust him in the least and she did not like the appraising look in his eyes. "You seem to be adapting very well to our lifestyle." He said and she nodded. "A shame that one so lovely is a carouche." "I don't have a problem with it." Tracy said, her eyes diamond hard. Lacroix looked at her with interest. This was more and more amusing. "I am proud of my maker and my lineage." "Good." Lacroix smiled blandly then his smile turned wickedly charming. "So can you do the time warp?" "Can I? I'm the best in the station." Tracy said and returned his smile. "I love that show. Especially Riffraff." He laughed and began to tell her a wicked anecdote about when he and Janette went to the show in London, dressed as Magenta and Riffraff, and discovered Nick who had come as Rocky. Tracy found herself enjoying the dance. Screed watching her as she laughed and enjoyed herself felt a hard knot of jealousy. She wasn't his lover; he hadn't minded when one of her mortal friends had asked her out. Yet this really pissed him off. Lacroix should mind his own business. When the dance music changed he walked across the floor to where they were dancing. "Mind if I cuts in?" He asked, his tone not taking a refusal and Lacroix nodded and stepped back. Tracy had seldom seen her maker look so grim and she studied him with interest. "What is it?" She asked him. "Nuffin." He replied, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. "D'yer like him?" Tracy shook her head and looked at him. "He gives me the creeps." She admitted. "He's very charming and good company, but those eyes are like glass. If he didn't move I'd think him a statue." "What do ya thinks of the other folks here?" Screed asked and she looked around. "Ya danced with everyone." "Okay, the guy over there with red hair. He is such a poser, thinks he is gods gift and won't stop feeling me up." Tracy grinned. "I told him you would castrate him and if you didn't then I would. The fair haired guy in the corner kept asking me where Natalie was and if I knew." She sighed. "That man over there with the dark hair. He was curious about that too, kept pressing for a response. So did three other people." She looked at Screed. "What is going on?" "Nowt going on." Screed said and looked away. "Screed." Tracy said and he looked back. "You are a dreadful liar. Something is going on and it gives me the creeps not knowing about it. It stinks of a trap." "Baby Jane, leave it." Screed asked her and Tracy looked away. "Why?" Tracy asked. "What is going on? I hate it when people keep me in the dark. Nick always did and I didn't tolerate it from him either." She realised that Screed was in unspoken contact with his maker, their eyes locked but no word spoken. Finally she nodded and he turned back to Tracy. "Act normal." He whispered and she studied him, amazed as he drew her closer and kissed her hard on the lips. Tracy froze for a moment as he did so, a part of her enjoying the experience. He was a good kisser and the fact that she could feel his enjoyment through their link only made the experience more intense. He drew her closer and she could feel his arms hold her tightly, his fingers trembling against her back. He led her off the floor and kept one arm around her waist as they left the room. Tracy was grateful that vampire complexions prevented her from blushing at the chorus of knowing groans and the sly winks aimed at them. Screed led her up to her room and through into his room. Once there she looked at him, wondering if he was going to jump on her, and if so whether it was a good or bad thing. End Part Two Burning the Stubble 3/3 By Spike Shovelton See Part One for disclaimer. There was a movement behind them. A bookcase opened to reveal Rachel standing there, elegant in her dark green dress. She looked more like an avenging Judith than ever before. As she turned Tracy saw faint blue numbers on her right arm, above the elbow. She made a mental note to ask about that. "Tracy." She said and came into the bedroom. "I respect that you will not pledge me your loyalty, but will you keep your word?" "If I give it then I keep it." Tracy responded and the other studied her a moment before nodding. "I have spoken with Lucius and he says that you are trustworthy. I need you to give me a solemn binding vow that you will not disclose to another soul what I am about to share with you." Rachel went to sit on the bed. "Can you give me that oath?" Tracy looked at her, wondering what this was all about. She looked at Screed and he nodded. "I'll give a guarantee." "On his life then, will you swear not to disclose this?" Tracy nodded and the matriarch smiled. "You have my word." Tracy said quickly. "It concerns your friend Natalie Lambert." Rachel said and looked at the other. "Lucius brought her across to save Nicholas and for a time Nicholas and Natalie were together." She shrugged her shoulder. "It did not work, Nicholas preferred Natalie as a mortal and was unable to accept that she had changed. Soon after he left with Janette there were two attempts on her life." "Someone tried to kill Natalie?" Tracy said and the other nodded. "Lucius informed us and we took her into protective custody." Rachel smiled and this time her eyes were mischievous. "She did not like it. We have been investigating to try and find the one responsible. We believe it is the child of an elder who died in the fever. This childe blamed her for the fever hitting Toronto and seeks revenge." "But you don't know who?" Tracy asked and the others nodded. "The elder in question made several children and we are not aware which ones survived him. After the fever there was great confusion. Many people left and it was difficult to count survivors. We know the perpetrator to be male but we are not aware of his identity." Rachel shrugged. "One reason I invited you here was that people might ask you, and it would give us a clue. You are wired for sound." Tracy looked at the other, then down at her pendant, so that was why he had given it to her. Screed winced at the look of annoyance and betrayal in her eyes. "No, I gived yer that because I wanted to." "The listening device is in the heel of your shoe." Rachel said and smiled. "Thaddeus gave you the necklace because he is a sentimental fool." Tracy decided to dismiss that issue. "So how can I help?" Tracy asked and the others smiled. "Go back down and socialise, people are becoming even more intoxicated. Can you do dizzy and euphoric?" Rachel asked and Tracy nodded. "Tell everyone who is interested, and a few who aren't, that you have found Natalie Lambert and are going to see her tomorrow evening. If anyone else did it then it would be thought to be a trap. People know that you haven't offered me any loyalty, I made sure of that, so they might believe you." "So you didn't want me to?" Tracy asked and the old woman smiled. "I knew you wouldn't. Your personality profile indicates that you do not trust easily." Rachel smiled at her. "It was a reasonable assumption. Two centuries ago I would simply have ordered a purge of the likely suspects, but times change." "I'm glad to hear it." Tracy said and the other smiled again, this time almost reaching her eyes. "So where do I take them tomorrow?" "Sheffield, far enough away for the killer not to suspect and close enough for you to reach. I'll give you the address tomorrow and you can set off at dusk. If you act furtive, as though you were sneaking out, then it will serve even more." Rachel suggested. Tracy duly did her part in the conspiracy. It was strange but Screed seemed to trust this woman, and she trusted Screed. She smiled and laughed with the guests until her face ached and they all laughed at the appropriate places. Had she known it, Natalie Lambert was not having an easy time either. "How much longer?" Natalie glared at Lacroix as she paced up and down the luxurious apartment. "I hate being cooped up like this. I want him to be locked up." "He won't survive to be locked up, he will be dead." Lacroix assured her, and his smile was cold. "Nobody harms my family." He walked over to her and his gaze softened. "Especially not you, ma belle." He wreathed one curl around a finger and as he did so he heard a displeased meowing. Nat looked down at her cat then up at her sire. "He still doesn't like you." "I know." Lacroix said and returned his attention to his most recent childe. "It will all be over soon, and then I will have you to myself again." He pulled her closer. "Now let me see if I can distract you until then." Her response was forestalled by his kiss. Tracy smiled as she let herself out of the house and walked to the car. She had let it be known that she did not like flying and she smiled as she set off down the drive. Screed came running down the drive shouting at her to come back. Tracy smiled as she left. That had made it plain to any watchers that he was not in on it. She drove into the countryside, looking at the attractive fields. Screed loved England but after Canada it was small. She did sometimes feel constrained by the small regular fields and neat woodlands, longing for the Rockies and the open snow covered north. Still she could be plenty worse off, she was alive, she didn't need to kill people, she would live for a long time, barring unforeseen mishaps, she had a kind, understanding maker who kissed very well. She smiled as she followed the instructions. At the traffic lights she paused and sent out her mind, she was not alone. She could feel someone following her. Hopefully this was the killer. She looked at the wing mirror. Whoever this vamp was, he was terrible at tailing. As a cop she had learned how to tail people well. He blatantly had not, which indicated either that he didn't know how to, or that he didn't care if she saw him or not. As she pulled up at a house near the cathedral she studied the scene. Hopefully this would work. She went over to the door and lifted the brass knocker before letting it fall. The door was opened and she smiled as she recognised the figure on the step. This was like old home week. Miklos, the bartender at the Raven, smiled at her. "I'm here to see Natalie." Tracy said loudly and the other nodded and let her in. Once inside Tracy noticed the black clad enforcers standing in groups, poised and ready to strike. She was heartily glad that she was not the enemy as they all carried decorated stakes and guns and swords. One of them put fingers to his lips and motioned her into another room. This was a drawing room, very open plan and well furnished. Tracy saw Natalie in a window seat and she went over to it. The figure turned to her and came over and embraced her. "Hey, Nat. How are you?" Tracy hugged the other woman and looked at her fondly. "You look great." Natalie did look good, glowing with contentment and very well dressed. She handed Tracy a glass. Tracy smiled at the scent, ice-cream soda with blood, very pleasant. "So do you." Natalie smiled at her. "I am bored out of my mind. Protective custody is so dull." She sipped the slushy drink and smiled. "Do you miss chocolate?" "Oh yes." Tracy responded and swirled her straw in the drink. "I'm so glad to see you again." She said and Natalie smiled. "They wanted me to stay at a safe house, but there is no way I am going to hide away." Natalie smiled and they heard a knocking. "Sounds like our suspect." She smiled and pulled out a stake. "I did have to promise that we would stay out of the way unless he attacked us so we have to remain here." The other smiled and scooped her cat up in her arms. "Still we can catch up on news." Tracy nodded and began with the question she was dying to ask. "So what happened with you and Nick? I thought you were the perfect couple." "Nick had me on a pedestal, the perfect mortal ideal." Natalie spoke softly, her voice uninflected. "Pedestals are uncomfortable lonely places. I couldn't be that, I had changed and become something else. I didn't want to sit and brood for eternity and Nick found it difficult to accept that I changed. We grew apart I think." "I can imagine." Much to her surprise Tracy could see the problem. "So you split up?" "It just wasn't working." Natalie explained as they heard loud shouting. "We fell into a pattern, I shouted and he brooded. Then Janette came to town." Natalie sighed. "I couldn't compete and didn't want to try. I love Nick dearly but I am no longer in love with him." "I can understand that." Tracy remembered how easy it could be to let ex lovers be friends. "Do you have his number? I'd like to keep in touch." "Of course." Natalie scribbled down a phone number and an e-mail address and handed it to Tracy. The other began sharpening a stake casually as the sounds of the skirmish grew louder. "So who are you with now?" Tracy asked and Natalie looked down at her soda. "Come on, I can see contentment there. Who is it and I want gory details." "Well." Natalie smiled. "A few weeks after Nick left the stalking began. I got anonymous calls, bloody stakes through the post, the works. Nick had said if I had trouble to go to a friend in the enforcers. I did and two days later Nick's maker, my maker too, Lacroix turned up. I hadn't seen him since he brought me across. He shouted at me, in what I think was Latin, not the kind I learnt in medical school, told me I ought to have gone to him." "I can picture that." Tracy said and Natalie smiled. "I told him he was a conceited piece of horse dropping who should be crushed underfoot like a common louse." She smiled. "I didn't know that those words meant that. One of my lecturers used the expression sometimes. Then Lucius laughed and said he would look after me. He ensured protection for me and things just happened." "You and the old general?" Tracy asked, unbelieving. "You're joking. Why?" "He was there. He was gentle with me and I know he won't go away without an explanation. He always keeps his word and doesn't lie to me. If I ask him, he tells me the truth." Natalie smiled. "In an ideal world, Nick and I would have walked off into the sunset and lived happily ever after." Her smile turned bitter. "This isn't an ideal world. Sometimes you have to take what comes, love where you can. My mother said if you can't be with the one you love, then love the one you're with." "Wise." Tracy said and they talked some more. It was good to talk to someone from Toronto. Tracy became aware that Natalie was increasingly pale as the door swung open. Tracy looked at the dark haired figure in the doorway, a dart gun in one hand and a long pointed stake in the other. Tracy looked at him as he stepped through towards them, through the smoke of the hallway. There was a flash as he threw something at Natalie. Tracy could smell garlic and realised that their adversary had used a gas bomb. The putrid stench irritated her lungs and made her cough. It had affected Natalie, who had caught the brunt of it, far more seriously and the coroner wavered on her feet, unable to think straight or to move properly. For a moment Tracy froze as the man took aim, trying to see through the stinging mist that made red tears fall from her eyes. Natalie was no better. For a moment Tracy struggled to remain alert, like one fighting a tidal wave. Then she reacted, grabbing Natalie and pushing her to the ground as the holy water dipped, wooden bullets were shot overhead. Her move was fractionally too slow and Tracy drew in a sharp breath as she felt the bullet pierce her arm. She tried to force down the pain and draw herself to her feet. In the time it took for her to compose herself she saw the man moving to Natalie. Nat kicked out but she was too much affected by the gas that overwhelmed her." Tracy hissed between dropped fangs. The man turned and glared at her. "She must die." He had pinned Natalie and drawn a long, horribly sharp sword. "She killed him." Tracy moved faster, catching his sword arm on the downswing, ignoring the daggers of pain this shot through her. She did not think she was strong enough to hold him at bay, as he was older. As they struggled she twisted them away from Natalie. She grabbed hold of a chair and broke the back off it, vampire strength for once useful. She brought the chair back up towards him and drove the two sharpened points into his stomach, heedless of the splinters in her hands from the broken wood. Her left arm was agony and she knew that she could not keep it up much longer. She gave one final push, before her strength gave out. The force of the blow sent him staggering backwards, just as the room filled with enforcers and Lacroix came over and gathered Natalie up. Rachel came in as they took the prisoner away. "Well done." She said to Tracy. "We had not anticipated that he would bring so many mortal decoys." "Is it over now?" Tracy asked. "Is that the culprit?" "Oh yes, we have caught him." She smiled. "I will deal with your hands. You must have the splinters removed, as well as the bullet in your arm." She looked at the broken chair and shook her head. "I liked that chair." "Sorry." Tracy said and the other smiled. "No matter." She looked at Tracy. "Come granddaughter." The others looked at Tracy in surprise but she moved to flank the old enforcer and followed her into another room. "Sit down, I will tend to your hands." She did, picking out the splinters and bullet with tweezers. "You've been a doctor?" Tracy asked. "Yes, a nurse too. I was skilled in healing as a mortal woman; I knew the appropriate herbs. My father was a soldier and he wished me to learn." Rachel smiled. "More recently I served as a nurse in the Crimea and one in the first war, then in the seventies as a doctor in Africa." Rachel smiled. "Not in the second war." She pulled the bullet out easily enough. "I saw the marks on your arm." Tracy said before she could stop herself. "Observant. You aren't supposed to be able to tattoo vampires, you can but it fades quickly. Vampire healing will dissipate the ink eventually. Every year I have it replaced and will do until a century has passed, out of tribute to those of my people who died." Her face twisted into a bitter frown. "Screed helped me and a group of us out of Tereczin." Tracy looked blank. "Everyone knows Auschwitz but Mr Spielberg didn't make a film about Tereczin. It was a camp." Rachel laughed bitterly. "A concentration camp?" Tracy asked and the enforcer nodded. "I'm sorry." There was nothing else to be said. "I sometimes wonder what my people did to be so reviled." Rachel said softly. "I never could understand what frightened people, even Thaddeus at first. Until he realised that we didn't crucify Christians on a regular basis or commune with evil spirits or sleep with our brothers. Why they insisted on blaming us for everything I do not know." Her voice was angry. "I knew he would help me out, get me out of there. He will always be there in an emergency. He is one of the truest people I know." "Yes." Tracy agreed and looked at the old vampire. "How did you survive?" "It was easier for me than for others. I fed from the guards, whammied them into giving me more food." She shrugged. "A few of my friends knew who I was, what I was. It did not matter. Hardly any of us survived." "Awful." Tracy agreed. Rachel smiled suddenly as Screed came rushing in. "Pet, yer 'urt?" He looked at Tracy and took her hands. "She orright Rachel?" Tracy winced slightly at the touch of his hand on her hands. She could feel the small wounds healing over, but her arm ached with a dull fire. "She took a bullet in the arm, and a few splinters, but she'll be fine." Rachel assured her childe. "We have caught our killer." "Good, don't ya be doing that again, fruit." He slid an arm around Tracy, avoiding touching her injuries. "I was that frit ya'd been 'urt." "I'm fine." Tracy assured him, enjoying the warmth of his arm. Odd how she always felt so protected when he was around. She squeezed his hand, the ring feeling heavy on her finger. "Killer caught, Natalie saved, you're here. All is well." "So t'is." Screed wondered at her courage. She had just staked an enemy and seemed quite unconcerned. She was so strong for all her seeming fragility. "Yes well done." Rachel smiled at the other. "You are a useful addition to my family." "Thanks." Tracy smiled at her. "Let me know when you want me to pledge my loyalty. I am starting to trust you more, so perhaps I should." "I hope so." The enforcer smiled. "I think you had better take her home, Thaddeus. We will talk later." Tracy smiled at him. As she stood she remembered Natalie's words. "If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with." There was wisdom in that. Vachon was dead and she would never have him near her again. Time to make the best of the situation. She fell into step as they walked back to the cars. "Have yer enjoyed the visit?" Screed asked, expecting the answer no. He watched with concern as she climbed into the car. "In parts. I liked the dancing, and meeting people, even if I couldn't remember what I was doing when William the Conqueror invaded." Screed laughed at that. "I like Rachel. She's remarkable." "That she be." Screed looked at her. "Well done, yer done good. Let's go 'ome." Rachel watched as they walked down the corridor, arm in arm. She turned to where Natalie and Lacroix were emerging from the other room, holding hands. "I think Shakespeare would have something to say about this." Rachel grinned. "Praise the lord for alliance. So go all to the world save I, and I am sunburnt." She smiled at them and turned and left, whistling. The end. Notes 1) The flashback is from my imagination; Screed sounded like a sailor to me. Tyburn is the part of London where the gallows were situated when people were publicly executed. The Tyburn jig refers to hanging. Pox is Syphilis, a prevalent and incurable disease of the time, and rolling means robbing. The press gang used to abduct people and force them into the navy, owing to the problem of finding recruits. 2) Carfax was the name of the house that Count Dracula rented in England, in the novel of the same name by Bram Stoker. The irony amused me. 3) The poem quoted by Screed is by Robert Herrick a seventeenth century English poet. Incidentally Rachel's friend "George" is intended to be Shaw, whose novel Pygmalion described a professor teaching a flower girl to speak properly. The novel achieved fame as the musical "My Fair Lady." 4) "This isn't the junior chamber of commerce." "They're probably foreigners..." are both from "Rocky Horror Show." No infringement of the copyright of whoever owns the show is intended. I just love the lines so can't resist it. 5) The title comes from a poem entitled "Burning the Stubble" by Jon Stallworthy and his copyright to it is acknowledged. Farmers used to set the fields on fire to remove the dead, wasted stalks and prepare the soil for the next year's crop. You used to drive along the motorway and see the fields burning. Now more modern agricultural methods have made this unnecessary. The idea of purging the dead seed to plant a new crop seemed appropriate. 6) Theresienstadt or Tereczin was a small town near Prague, used as a concentration camp during the Second World War. A great many musicians and artists were sent there. Despite the dreadful conditions, there was an incredible cultural life in the camp, a fact seized upon by the Nazis for propaganda purposes. In 1944 the camp was emptied and the inhabitants were sent to Auschwitz. The majority of them were murdered in the gas chambers upon arrival. 7) "So go all to the world" comes from "Much Ado about Nothing" by William Shakespeare.