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“They wouldn’t be on my reading list.” She offered a cool smile. “What did your group make of Dracula?”
“It provoked a good discussion about historic myths of vampyrs versus what we know now. Or, at least, what we think we know.”
Barbara reached for her beer. “It’s a popular book with the Helsing League. You aware of any anti-vampyr feeling among the kids?”
“You get anti-vampyr feeling in all colony towns. Kind of gets passed down through the generations.”
“I guess. What was your impression of the three boys?”
He sat back and crossed his legs. “Stephen is a bright kid, when he can be bothered. Jacob—quiet, reserved. Can’t say he was always regular with his attendance. But there are home issues…”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Marcus—never going to be top of the class, but a trier. If he had any issues, it was that he could be a little easily led.”
Barbara considered this. “Did you know that Marcus had a Helsing tattoo?”
Mowlam shook his head. “No.”
“You don’t seem shocked though?”
“Like I said, he was easily led. The type of kid that never says no to a dare.”
“You think he got a Helsing tattoo for a dare?”
“I don’t know why he got it. I’m just telling you my impression of Marcus.”
“You got any tattoos, Mr. Mowlam?”
“Most people do these days.”
“Ever heard of Be Damned Tattooists?”
“Afraid not. I got mine when I lived in New Orleans. You should visit. Big colony there.” He reached for his coffee and took a sip.
Barbara didn’t like his tone. She got the feeling Mowlam was playing with her.
“And what are your feelings about colonies, sir?”
“I’m agnostic. I don’t agree with culls, but people have a right to live safely. It’s naive to pretend that vampyrs aren’t dangerous. They’re killers. It’s in their nature, like a bear or a wolf.”
“They’re not animals.”
“No, they’re worse because they look like us. I don’t bear them any ill will, but seems to me that vampyrs and humans will never coexist together. It has to be one or the other. We should let nature take its course.”
“You mean hunting?”
“I mean survival of the fittest.” He regarded her curiously. “I get the feeling you don’t agree?”
“Not my place to agree or disagree, but the law says otherwise.”
He smiled, but there was nothing pleasant about it. “And how many dead kids will it take for the law to change its mind?”
“You want your chicken sandwich here?”
Barbara turned. Mayflower stood by the table holding her plate of food.
“No.” She smiled back at Mowlam. “I think I should let Mr. Mowlam get on with his marking.”
