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And young vamps fried at the slightest touch of sunlight. "Then either he has an accomplice, or he's older than he seems."
"Just be aware of both possibilities when you go in there."
"Boss, I have been doing this for a little while now. You don't need to tell me the basics anymore."
He harrumphed. "You may know the basics, my dear, but you have a frightening tendency to ignore them."
"But that's what makes me a good guardian, isn't it?" I said, then hung up before he could comment further.
It didn't take all that long to get across to Glenroy. It was one of Melbourne's older suburbs, and had originally been the haunt of the working class. These days, it had become a wasteland of run-down and grimy-looking houses - and run-down and grimy-looking people. Which was odd really, considering the closeness to the city.
Using the nav-computer, I found Havard Street and parked several houses up from my target. Number four was a red-brick affair with a sagging roof and smashed front windows. It didn't look as if anyone was living there, but maybe that was the whole point.
I got my gun out of the secure box under the seat, then climbed out, locked the car, and walked down. The scent of decay bloomed in the air, heavily enriched with the smell of humanity. The house beside my quarry's looked to be in a similar state of disrepair, but there were clean-looking floral curtains adorning the windows, and a shiny new car sitting in the driveway. Not hard to guess where all the money had gone in that household.
With the heavy scents that already rode the air, it was hard to catch Young's. Even when I walked through the broken front gate, the wrongness that I'd come to associate with him failed to materialize. I frowned and stopped just short of the steps. Neither of the front rooms had glass, let alone curtains, so I very much doubted Young would be in either of them. Even if he was older than I'd been presuming, he still wouldn't be able to stand the amount of sunlight that was streaming in through those windows.
I flexed my fingers, then gripped the laser a little tighter and made my way around to the side of the house. A ramshackle wooden fence divided the rear yard from the front. I jumped it easily enough, then kept to the side of the house as I crept forward. The ground here was barren, and little puffs of dirt rose with each step, making my nose twitch with the need to sneeze.
I ducked past a window and approached the back of the house. There were fewer windows here, but again, none of them were curtained or boarded - which was extremely unusual for the haunt of a newer vampire.
Dirt and cobwebs caked the back door, but the old metal handle gleamed in the sunlight. The dirt around the handle was smudged - as if fingers had brushed it when opening the door.
So obviously, someone had been through here recently. I just had to hope it was a vampire, and not some poor hobo looking for shelter for the night. Because if it was the latter, he was about to get a very big fright.
I walked up the steps and wrapped my fingers around the handle. Nothing seemed to be moving inside, and the smell of vampire remained annoyingly absent.
Hoping Vinny hadn't sent me on a wild-goose chase, I twisted the handle and carefully opened the door. Cold air rushed out at me, filled with the aromas of rot and age. But wrapped within those scents was the slightest hint of vampire.
It wasn't exactly a fresh smell, but he'd at least been here. He might still be, for all I knew.
I edged inside, my back to the wall and finger on the trigger of my gun. This back room was small, and filled with cobwebs and yellowed newspapers. I flared my nostrils, seeking the scents beyond what was in this room. Still nothing strong. I crept past the stacks of paper and into what had once been a kitchen. What remained of the counters showed recent use. A newish kettle sat on a stove, and a jar of coffee and a cracked mug sat nearby.
Young - or whoever was living here - was going all out when it came to the luxuries, obviously.
I continued forward, into a hallway. The wooden floorboards creaked under my steps, the sound seeming to echo oddly through the silence.
There was another room to the right, but again, beside newspapers and rubbish, it was empty. As was the bathroom and the living room. The front room possessed a bed that appeared to have been used recently, if the crinkled state of the sheets was anything to go by.
And Young had been in here. His scent was faint, but nevertheless here - it seemed not even the breeze coming through the smashed windows could remove the foulness of it.
But why would a vampire have a bed in one of the sunnier rooms of the house? Or did he only use it at night, when he wasn't out torturing people for whatever sick reasons he had?
Whatever the reason, he didn't appear to be here now. I blew out a breath and lowered the weapon. What next? It wasn't usual for a vamp to have more than one bolt-hole, but Vinny had seemed pretty positive that this was his current address. I mightn't trust her, but I trusted the anger that had been in her voice. Trusted her need for vengeance.
I moved back into the hallway. None of these rooms were exactly dark - certainly not dark enough for a vamp needing to avoid sunlight, anyway.
So if he was here, he'd have to have a daytime bolt-hole. I looked up at the ceiling. Old places like this had high rooflines, and it wasn't unusual for this attic area to be used as a storage area. And if it could fit junk, it could certainly fit a vampire.
I flicked my vision to infrared and studied the ceiling again. Nothing in the area immediately above me. I walked back through the house, gaze searching the shadows above me. It wasn't until I reached the kitchen that I saw the heat of life.
Only it didn't look big enough to be a vampire. It was more the size of a small cat.
Frowning, I retraced my steps until I found the hatchway, which was in the bathroom. After making sure the old cabinet would support my weight, I climbed up and carefully pushed aside the cover.
Dust and old spiderwebs drifted down from the darkness, and I brushed them away from my face. Spindly cracks of light ran across the roof high above, suggesting the old tin wasn't as waterproof - or light-proof - as it had looked from outside. After checking that the life source hadn't moved, I flicked the laser's safety on and shoved it in my pocket, then grabbed either side of the hatch and quickly hauled myself up. My gun was back in my hand before my butt hit the ceiling.
The red blur of life hadn't moved, but its oddly round eyes were regarding me steadily.
