“What’s your name?” asked Jamie.

The girl grimaced and didn’t answer.

“This will be easier if I know your name,” he said, calmly.

“It’s Kate,” she spat. “Kate Randall.”

“I’m Jamie,” he said. “Pleased to meet you.”

She glared at him, and didn’t respond.

“In a few seconds, I’m going to ask my friend to put you down,” Jamie said. “Please don’t run, or attack any of us. We really do mean you no harm, but we’ll protect ourselves if we have to. OK?”

No response.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” he said, and nodded to Larissa. She smiled at him and released her grip on the girl. Kate fell to the floor in a heap, but her head came up immediately, her eyes flashing with anger.

“Who are you?” she asked. “Are you with them?”

“No,” said Jamie. “We’re not with them. We’re here to stop them.”

Kate laughed. It was a dry, brittle sound, with no humor in it. “You’re a little bit late,” she said.

Then she burst into tears.

As McBride knelt down and tried to comfort the crying girl, the sound of footsteps crashed through the undergrowth, and Jamie heard his name called through the darkness. It was Morris’s voice, and he shouted in response.

“Over here!”

The crashing and thudding increased, then Morris and Stevenson burst into the clearing, their weapons drawn. They skidded to a halt, taking in the scene before them; Jamie standing next to Larissa, McBride kneeling beside the weeping teenage girl, the pale body of the man lying on the ground.

“What happened?” demanded Morris, striding over to Jamie.

Jamie explained.

“Jesus,” said Morris, and shook his head. “What a mess.”

Stevenson went to McBride and knelt down beside him. Kate was starting to compose herself, the tears drying up, her weeping diminishing to small gulps of air. She looked at the two men in their black uniforms crouching beside her, then over at Jamie.

“What’s happening?” she asked, simply.

Morris strode over and stood in front of her. “Have you read Dracula?” he asked.

She nodded.

“It’s not a story; it’s a history lesson.”

Kate looked up at him, then burst out laughing. “Wow,” she said, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “How many times have you practiced that one?”

Morris flushed red and looked over at Jamie for help. A big grin had crept over the teenager’s face, and he walked over and hunkered down in front of Kate.

“Vampires are real,” he said, softly. “They’re what attacked your island tonight. Their leader is one of the oldest vampires in the world, and he’s holding my mother captive. This had nothing to do with you, or anyone else who lived here. But you need to understand what we’re dealing with. OK?”

Kate nodded. Her eyes were clear, and her face was remarkably calm. “Do you know if anyone made it off the island?” she asked. “My father . . .”

She stopped and gazed into the distance, lost for a moment in the memory of what had happened to her sleepy little village.

“There are survivors,” Jamie said, and her eyes snapped back into focus. “I don’t know how many, and I don’t know if your father was among them. But there are definitely survivors; they ran a fishing boat aground on a beach near Fenwick.”

Relief spilled through Kate like a warm wave.

I’ll see him soon. I’ll see him once the sun comes up.

“What happens now?” she asked. “There’s no one else alive here. Ben was the last.” She motioned to the body lying on the grass. Its wide eyes stared lifelessly up at the night sky.

“We have a job to do,” said Morris. “I want you to go down into the village, lock yourself in your house, and wait for morning. When the sun—”

Kate and Jamie interrupted him at the same time.

“You can’t leave me here!”

“We’re not leaving her here!”

Morris pulled off his helmet and threw it to the ground. It thudded to the wet grass, and the rest of the team jumped.

“For Christ’s sake,” he shouted. “This is not a youth-club hike or an Outward Bound trip. This is a classified military operation, I am the senior officer here, and you will do as I tell you. Is that understood?”

There was silence in the clearing; five faces were turned toward Morris, who had gone a deep shade of angry red.

“That was very impressive, Tom,” said Larissa. “Really. Very forceful.”

Kate giggled, and Jamie felt a smirk creep involuntarily across his face. Even McBride and Stevenson smiled, despite themselves, and after a moment, Morris himself broke into a grin.

“Sorry,” he said. “Got a bit carried away there for a minute.”

Jamie stood up and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “We can’t leave her, Tom,” he said. “You know we can’t.”

“I know,” replied Morris, then turned his attention to Kate. “Can you take us to the monastery from here?”

Kate stood up.

“What are we waiting for?” she asked.

43

THE STUFF OF NIGHTMARES

The Blacklight team, now one member larger than it had been when it landed, walked through the woods. In the distance, the ramparts of the ancient monastery could be seen above the trees, lit by orange light flickering off the pale stone.

Kate had guided them onto a rough trail that wound through the woods. Jamie had given her the stake from his belt, and she carried it before her like a divining rod, her fist clenched tightly around the rubber grip. Larissa was floating above them, her eyes peeled for any sign of movement, as the team walked beneath her. They crossed a large clearing, on which a soccer pitch had been marked out in lines of fading paint, and then the trees enveloped them again.

McBride led the way, followed by Jamie and Kate, who were walking side by side, then by Stevenson, and finally by Morris, who had again taken up the rear position.

“So how old are you?” asked Kate, her voice trembling.

Jamie could see she was trying to hold herself together. “I’m sixteen,” he replied. “You?”

“Same,” she said, and grinned at him. “My birthday was last month.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing,” she said. “My dad had to work. But he’s going to take me to the mainland next month. We’re going shopping.” Her face creased with pain at the thought of her father, and Jamie’s heart went out to her.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” he said.

“So am I,” she replied.

They walked on in silence for a few minutes, then she spoke again.

“How did you end up here?” she asked, looking over at him.

This time he did laugh. “That’s a long story,” he replied.

“We’ve got time.”

“No,” said Jamie. “We really haven’t. Trust me.”

They emerged into a round clearing, and McBride held a hand up, bringing them to a halt. Larissa floated down next to Jamie and eyed Kate with a look of mild suspicion as the team fanned out in a tight line.

“What’s wrong?” Morris asked.

McBride glared at him, then held a finger to his lips. “Something’s not right,” he whispered. “I don’t—” He didn’t finish his sentence. Larissa tipped her head back and sniffed the night air, then gripped Jamie’s arm and turned to him, her eyes wide.

Vampires flooded into the clearing.

They emerged from the darkness at the edges, dropped from the overhanging branches. There were twelve of them, male and female; they formed into a loose line in the middle of the clearing, snarling at the Blacklight team.

Crimson spilled into Larissa’s eyes, and she bared her fangs at the group of vampires. Jamie grabbed at his belt for a UV grenade and felt only air. There had been no time to visit the armory before they left; the operators were carrying only their basic equipment. They raised their weapons and waited for the vampires to make a move.

They didn’t have to wait long.