Darren Shan - Allies Of The Night

"But—" I began.

" You got her into this," Harkat interrupted. "I told you not to. You ignored me. You can't control people once… you involve them. She knows the danger and she… accepts it. What excuse have you to reject her offer… other than you're fond of her and… don't want to see her harmed?"

Put like that, there was nothing I could say. "Very well," I sighed. "I don't like this, but if you want to pitch in, I guess we have to let you."

"He's so gallant, isn't he?" Steve observed.

"He certainly knows how to make a girl feel welcome," Debbie grinned, then dropped her coat and leant forward. "Now," she said, "let's quit with the time-wasting and get down to business. I want to know everything there is to know about these monsters. What do they look like? Describe their smell. What sort of tracks do they leave? Where do—"

"Quiet!" I snapped, cutting her short.

She stared at me, offended. "What did I—"

"Hush," I said, quieter this time, laying a finger to my lips. I advanced to the door and pressed my ear against it.

"Trouble?" Harkat asked, stepping up beside me.

"I heard soft footsteps in the hallway a minute ago — but no door has opened."

We retreated, communicating with our eyes. Harkat found his axe, then went to check on the window.

"What's happening?" Debbie asked. I could hear the fast, hard beat of her heart.

"Maybe nothing — maybe an attack."

"Vampaneze?" Steve asked grimly.

"I don't know. It could just be an inquisitive maid. But somebody's out there. Maybe they've been eavesdropping, maybe they haven't. Best not to take chances."

Steve swung his arrow gun around and slid an arrow into it.

"Anyone outside?" I asked Harkat.

"No. I think the way's clear if we have to make a… break for it."

I drew my sword and tested the blade while considering our next move. If we left now, it would be safer — especially for Debbie — but once you start running, it's hard to stop.

"Up for a scrap?" I asked Steve.

He let out an uneven breath. "I've never fought a vampaneze on its feet," he said. "I've always struck by day, while they were sleeping. I don't know how much use I'd be."

"Harkat?" I asked.

"I think you and I should go see… what's going on," he said. "Steve and Debbie can wait by the window. If they hear sounds of fighting, they… should leave."

"How?" I asked. "There's no fire escape and they can't scale walls."

"No problem," Steve said. Reaching inside his jacket, he unwrapped a thin rope from around his waist. "I always come prepared," he winked.

"Will that hold two of you?" Harkat asked.

Steve nodded and tied one end of the rope to a radiator. Going to the window, he swung it open and threw the other end of the rope down. "Over here," he said to Debbie, and she went to him without objecting. He got her to climb on to the window sill and back out over it, holding on to the rope, so she was ready to descend in a hurry. "You two do what you have to," Steve said, covering the door with his arrow gun. "We'll get out if things look bad."

I checked with Harkat, then tiptoed to the door and took hold of the handle. "I'll go first," I said, "and drop low. You come straight after me. If you see anyone who looks like they don't belong — scalp them. We'll stop to ask for their credentials later."

I opened the door and dived into the hall, not bothering with a count. Harkat stepped out after me, arrow gun raised. Nobody to my left. I spun right — no one there either. I paused, ears cocked.

Long, tense moments passed. We didn't move. The silence gnawed at our nerves but we ignored it and concentrated — when you're fighting vampaneze, a second of distraction is all they need.

Then someone coughed overhead.

Dropping to the floor, I twisted on to my back and brought my sword upright, while Harkat swung his arrow gun up.

The figure clinging to the ceiling dropped before Harkat could fire, knocked him across the hallway, then kicked my sword from my hands. I scrambled after it, then stopped at a familiar chuckle. "Game, set and match to me, I think."

Turning, I was greeted with the sight of a chunky man dressed in purple animal skins, with bare feet and dyed green hair. It was my fellow Vampire Prince — Vancha March!

" Vancha !" I gasped, as he grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and helped me to my feet. Harkat had risen by himself and was rubbing the back of his head, where Vancha had struck him.

"Darren," Vancha said. "Harkat." He wagged a finger at us. "You should always check the shadows overhead when scanning for danger. If I'd meant to harm you, the two of you would be dead now."

"When did you get back?" I cried excitedly. "Why did you sneak up on us? Where's Mr. Crepsley?"

"Larten's on the roof. We got back about fifteen minutes ago. We heard unfamiliar voices in the room, which is why we moved cautiously. Who's in there with you?"

"Come in and I'll introduce you," I grinned, then led him into the room. I told Steve and Debbie that we were safe, and went to the window to call down a wary, wind-bitten, very welcome Mr. Crepsley.

MR. CREPSLEY was every bit as suspicious of Steve as Steve had predicted. Even after I'd told him about the attack and Steve saving my life, he regarded the human with ill-concealed contempt and remained at a distance. "Blood does not change," he growled. "When I tested Steve Leonard's blood, it was the taste of pure evil. Time cannot have diluted that."

"I'm not evil," Steve growled in return. " You're the cruel one, making horrible, unfounded accusations. Do you realize how low an opinion I had of myself after you'd dismissed me as a monster? Your ugly rejection almost drove me to evil!"

"It would not, I think, have been a lengthy drive," Mr. Crepsley said smoothly.

"You could have been wrong, Larten," Vancha said. The Prince was lying on the couch, feet propped on the TV set, which he'd dragged closer. His skin wasn't as red as it had been when I last saw him (Vancha was convinced he could train himself to survive sunlight, and often strolled about by day for an hour or so, allowing himself to be badly burnt, building up his body's defences). I guessed he must have spent the past few months walled-up inside Vampire Mountain.

"I was not wrong," Mr. Crepsley insisted. "I know the taste of evil."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Vancha said, scratching an armpit. A bug fell out and landed on the floor. He guided it away with his right foot. "Blood's not as easy to divine as certain vampires think. I've found traces of 'evil' blood in several people over the decades, and kept tabs on them. Three went bad, so I killed them. The others led normal lives."

"Not all who are born evil commit evil," Mr. Crepsley said, "but I do not believe in taking chances. I cannot trust him."

"That's stupid," I snapped. "You have to judge people by what they do, not by what you believe they might do. Steve's my friend. I'll vouch for him."

"Me too," Harkat said. "I was cautious at first, but I'm confident now that… he's on our side. It's not just Darren he saved — he also warned him… to ring Debbie and tell her to get out. She'd be dead otherwise."

Mr. Crepsley shook his head stubbornly. "I say we should test his blood again. Vancha can do it. He will see that I am telling the truth."

"There's no point," Vancha said. "If you say there are traces of evil in his blood, I'm sure there are. But people can overcome their natural defects. I know nothing of this man, but I know Darren and Harkat, and I place more faith in their judgement than in the quality of Steve's blood."

Mr. Crepsley muttered something under his breath, but he knew he was outnumbered. "Very well," he said mechanically. "I will speak no more of it. But I will keep a very close watch on you," he warned Steve.