Vampires in Space: An Omnibus

By Niranjan

Four full vampire novels in one omnibus.

 

When museum owner Mark meets Ramsey, he doesn't expect the man to be a vampire and for himself to be the reincarnation of a long dead hunter.

 

When Hunter Ray Haspel goes home to see his sick father, the last thing he expects is to run into Alistair, the vampire with whom he has been in love forever.

 

When vampire hunter Ken has to defy his vampire lover, Frederick to help some human children, he risks more than their relationship because the world is ruled by vampires and they make the rules.

 

When Vampire Kingpin Alvin Rayes comes into the crosshairs of assassins, his only chance lies in trusting a couple of bodyguards who have secrets of their own

• Language: English
• Publisher: Geetha Krishnan
• Release date: Oct 30, 2024
• ISBN: 9798227803290

Niranjan

An author and editor, Niranjan’s biggest ambition is to have a character named Garth in every book they write. Niranjan writes books rooted in mythical worlds, and their stories are often a combination of magic and futuristic technology. When they are not writing or editing, Niranjan can be found cooking or just lying on their couch watching or rewatching C Dramas and writing fanfiction.

Book preview

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

INTERLUDE 1

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

INTERLUDE 2

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

INTERLUDE 3

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

INTERLUDE 4

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

INTERLUDE 5

TWENTY ONE

TWENTY TWO

TWENTY THREE

TWENTY FOUR

INTERLUDE 6

TWENTY FIVE

TWENTY SIX

TWENTY SEVEN

TWENTY EIGHT

INTERLUDE 7

TWENTY NINE

THIRTY

THIRTY ONE

THIRTY TWO

INTERLUDE 8

THIRTY THREE

THIRTY FOUR

THIRTY FIVE

THIRTY SIX

INTERLUDE 9

THIRTY SEVEN

THIRTY EIGHT

THIRTY NINE

FORTY

INTERLUDE 10

FORTY ONE

FORTY TWO

FORTY THREE

EPILOGUE

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Prologue

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ANOTHER SUCCESSFUL EXHIBITION. Mary smiled at him, showing a row of pearly white teeth. You must be very proud.

Mark inclined his head, acknowledging the compliment. Mary was one of the artists whose works were featured in the exhibition. She was also one of the few in the crowd he could call a friend.

I’m just glad it went well, he said, snagging two flutes of champagne from one of the passing waiters, and handing one to her. Your works got some attention today.

From? She dimpled at him.

Mark wagged a reproving finger at her. If he were interested in women, he would have found her dimples enchanting. She was a beautiful woman. Of medium height, with dark auburn hair and green eyes, she had a very expressive face. Mark had first met her when she was a struggling artist, and he had offered her works a place in his gallery. He had not had reason to regret it, and though Mary was hardly famous, she was well known enough and no longer had the distinction of being a struggling artist.

Lance Sillitoe was quite fascinated by some of your pieces, Mark said, smiling.

You’re kidding! Mary exclaimed. Lance Sillitoe ran a string of art galleries. If he liked her pieces and decided to give them space in one of his exhibitions, her name would be made.

Mark shook his head, smiling. He was quite impressed. He said he even had a buyer for one of them.

Which one? Mary demanded.

The one you named Fire and Dynamite. He said that he knew a rich collector who would just love that piece.

Mary frowned. That piece is not for sale.

Don’t be foolish, Mark said.

She shook her head obstinately. I gifted it to you. I won’t sell it.

Mary, he said. While I do appreciate the gift, I think you are being a bit silly here.

I thought you liked that piece, she challenged him.

Mark could not in all honesty deny it. He did not know what it was about that piece that attracted him so. From the moment he had seen it, he had felt as if it spoke to him. It might have been the blend of colours- the oranges and the blacks interspersed with the reds and yellows and whites that gave it a certain indefinable something that touched his soul. It was like a dream that one had half forgotten, it awoke a feeling of nostalgia in him, and he had been overwhelmed and touched when Mary had gifted it to him.

For all that, he had chosen to exhibit it, though he had told her laughingly it needed a better name. And now that it had caught someone’s attention, he was not going to be selfish enough to hold on to it. He was her friend first, and he told her that.

She shook her head adamantly.

Exactly, she said. And I want you to have it. Sillitoe can have any of the others. But that one is yours.

Mark would have expostulated with her again if Lance Sillitoe hadn’t chosen that moment to introduce himself to Mary. He had only a passing acquaintance with Sillitoe and was content to remain in the background, while the man monopolized Mary.

Adroitly, Sillitoe brought the conversation around to Fire and Dynamite.

I’m sorry, Mary said immediately. That piece is not for sale.

Lance Sillitoe raised his eyebrows. I was under the impression all the pieces tonight were for sale.

That piece does not belong to me anymore, Mary said bravely. I’d gifted it to Mark a long time back.

Is that so, Albert? Sillitoe turned to Mark. Mark sighed and admitted that she had gifted it to him.

Sillitoe pressed his lips together. Pity, he said. Mr. Ramsey would have loved that piece. In fact, I texted him to come here to have a look at it. I had no idea of course that it was not for sale. You might have made that clear, Albert.

Mary opened her mouth, but Mark gripped her arm tight. If Mr. Ramsey wishes to buy it, I’m sure it can be arranged, he spoke calmly, not giving any indication of the anger that had risen in him.

Mary was quiet though she gave him an angry glance. Sillitoe smiled affably at them and went off to see if Mr. Ramsey had arrived. Mary turned to Mark once he was out of earshot.

How dare he! she fumed. I cannot believe he was imputing it was your inefficiency! Nowhere did we say this was to be a sale! This was meant purely as an exhibition!

Be that as it may, Mark said. People like Sillitoe make their own rules. He can cause problems for both of us.

I was afraid he might cause you problems. That’s the only reason I kept quiet, she said.

Let me go and have a final look at that piece, Mark said lightly. Generosity was all very well, but now that he had chosen to give it away, he found himself grieving for it.

Perhaps Mr. Ramsey won’t like it, Mary said hopefully.

If he doesn’t, it can only be because you couldn’t find a better name for it. He winked at her.

She laughed and turned her attention to one of the other guests while Mark slipped inside to stand before the piece that he had come to think of as his. He was sad to be losing it, but he was truly happy for Mary’s sake. This could be her big break, and he did not think she should throw it away out of friendship. Yet, he could not help but feel melancholy when he looked at it.

That’s a beautiful piece of art, someone said in a hushed voice next to him. Mark nodded, not turning to see who it was.

What’s it called? the man asked. His voice was husky, and Mark felt something churn inside him.

Fire and Dynamite, he replied, a smile hovering over his mouth. The man next to him chuckled.

I suppose it could have been named better, but somehow it suits.

The man stepped closer to the exhibit. He was a man of medium height, with closely cropped black hair. The suit he was wearing was expensive and accentuated his physique.

This piece, the man spoke softly, almost to himself. It reminds me of a sunset, and yet, it is a sunset that fills one with hope rather than despair. This is like a half-buried memory, a half forgotten dream.

Mark stared at the back of the man’s head, which was all he could see.

It is almost exactly how I feel about it, he said, trying to hide how shaken he was.

Really?

The man turned to face him, and Mark could see that he was younger than he had supposed. Late twenties or early thirties, the same age as him, and he had a pleasant face that somehow seemed familiar. His eyes were grey and they held an open curiosity as they looked at him. He might be construed as ordinary, but there was a curious feeling in Mark’s chest, a tightness and he could not take his eyes off the stranger.

Mark Albert. Mark held out his hand, swallowing. I’m the owner of this gallery.

Michael Ramsey. The man took his hand. So nice to meet you. He had a firm grip.

So, this was the Mr. Ramsey that Sillitoe was talking about. Mark was almost glad that he was the one buying the piece. He realized he was still holding the other’s hand, and he let go immediately, though he could not look away from the other man. He looked very familiar.

Have we met before? he asked, before he could stop himself.

Ramsey’s expression changed, became closed. I’m sure I would have remembered if we had. He turned back to look at the piece. Would it be possible for me to meet the artist?

Of course, Mark said, as he led him to where Mary was. Sillitoe was nowhere to be seen.

Mark introduced Ramsey to Mary and slipped off. There was something extremely familiar about Ramsey. In fact, Ramsey evoked almost the exact same feeling that Mary’s painting did in him. A half-buried memory, a half-forgotten dream, a longing for nameless things, a feeling of nostalgia. Mark frowned. It was impossible that he had ever met Ramsey, but the feeling of familiarity persisted.

I’ll be taking my leave, Mr. Albert. Ramsey’s hand was held out with a card in it.

Mark took it automatically, before he scribbled down his personal number on one of his own cards and handed it to Ramsey.

I’ll be coming tomorrow to discuss further about that outstanding piece of yours, Miss Burton, Ramsey said, shaking hands with Mary before leaving.

He’s much nicer than that Sillitoe, Mary said, sitting down on an ottoman and loosening the straps of her high heels. I told him the piece belonged to you, and he was really understanding. He bought another one instead.

He did? Mark was startled. It seemed incomprehensible for the man to decide not to buy that piece when he was obviously enamoured by it.

Yes. Like I said, he was much nicer than Sillitoe. Though Sillitoe came up to me, all smiles and offered to exhibit my pieces in his galleries.

Mark grinned. I’m so happy for you! This could be your big break!

I know. She grimaced. But I don’t like that man.

You don’t have to like him, Mark said. He will be gaining as much as you from these exhibitions.

I know. Which reminds me that I need an agent. If I’m to deal with Sillitoe, I need someone who can get me a good deal.

Mark hid a smile. He’d been trying to get her to get an agent for a while now, and she had adamantly refused.

I can hear you, she said.

He gave her a curious glance.

You’re saying I told you so, she said, grimacing, Just because you’re not saying it out loud doesn’t mean I can’t hear it. She slipped off her heels and gathered them in her hands. So, at the end of a successful night, you might give me a lift home.

Five minutes. He smiled. Let me just check everything one last time.

Mary was silent during the drive home, which was unusual. He supposed she might be tired. He dropped her off in front of the apartment complex she stayed in before making his way to his loft. It had taken him some years to get the place. It was just a bachelor pad, but it gave him privacy.

Once inside, he took out Ramsey’s card and frowned as he saw that the man had scribbled his private cell number on top. It was strange, and made Mark grin as he thought of how he had done the same thing. His phone beeped, and he checked it to see a text message from an unknown number. It was from Ramsey. He opened the message to see it contained an image. He frowned as he looked at it. It was a painting of an old building. Underneath, Ramsey had typed,

The Inn at the Crossroads. Painted in 1710.

Mark put down the phone, shaken. That building looked familiar, and… Mark didn’t know what he felt… He had never seen that building, but he knew that the front door opened into a parlour, and that there were two doors, one which led to the private parlours and the other to the common room. From the common room, was the door leading to the kitchen and pantry and on the left was the flight of stairs leading to the first floor with a long, narrow corridor and bedrooms on both sides. There was another narrow corridor from the private parlour to the stairs. He had no idea how he knew it, and he buried his head in his hands.

He wondered if he had seen anything like it somewhere. Probably he had seen that painting on the web and had searched the layout, but he could not remember ever having done it. Yet, there was the lingering sense of familiarity. If he closed his eyes, he could see the dark wooden floors, the mellow light from the candles, the fragrance of roasting meat and the stench of sweat and ale in the common room. Mark shook his head, bewildered. Why did Ramsey send him this? He checked the phone again. That building tugged at some buried memory inside him, one which he could just place at the edge of his conscious thought, but dissipated as soon as he reached for it. He was shaking, upset, and there was a sense of yearning inside him that he could not explain to himself.

On an impulse, he googled the painting, and the inn. The painting was too obscure, and so was the inn. There were references to it, but no details. The only online reproduction was a faded, blurry one. The inn had been destroyed in a fire in 1780, and the painting was done by a local artist for the inn’s 50th anniversary.

Yet, Mark knew that place, he had been there, though he had no memory of ever doing so. He looked at the message again. What was happening to him? Who was this Ramsey?

He typed back. Who are you? What do you want?

He waited, but received no reply, and he went to bed, feeling disturbed. Of course, his own text could be classified as weird. No wonder Ramsey didn’t answer. When the answering beep came, Mark was in bed, and already half asleep. He reached for the phone and stared blearily at the message, his sleep leaving in an instant as he sat up, the phone slipping from his hand and on to the bed.

Ramsey. The whisper ghosted across his lips, barely audible.

The phone lay on the bed, the last message still open.

A chance to say goodbye.

His phone beeped again, and he picked it up, hand shaking and tears falling as he looked at the new message.

Ever is a long time, my friend.

One

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RAMSEY SURVEYED THE ROOM he was in. It was similar to the common rooms of a thousand inns he’d been in. Full of drunks and some thieves and some who might be on the run from the law for more sinister things than petty theft. He found himself a seat near the fire and checked out the people in the room. They all looked fairly ordinary, and the stench of ale was making his head reel. A serving girl came up to him, her dress clinging to her body, with her neck so low her breasts were almost spilling out over the top. She was slim and had a pretty face with a bold gaze.

What’ll you have? she asked, her bold eyes raking him down.

Ramsey smiled at her. Water and some food, no meat.

He was hungry, and meat didn’t mix well with his choice of food.

She snorted. You don’t drink?

Not tonight. He needed a clear head on his shoulders tonight. Do you have a bedroom to spare?

Plenty, she said. But I’ll need to see your coin first.

He pushed a gold coin towards her. That should cover my breakfast too, he said.

She bit it and nodded. Thank you, sir. Are you sure you won’t have anything else?

She leaned close to him, her breasts touching his shoulder, and her breath fanning his cheeks.

I’m certain, he said, even as he drew a deep breath to inhale the musk of her scent.

She went away, hips swaying, and brought him a large mug of water, a slice of stale bread and some soup. He smiled his thanks as he started eating. He was famished. This meal was not enough to assuage the pangs of his hunger, but he had expectations of a proper meal later. Places like this never disappointed.

Hey, come here and give me a kiss. A drunk reached out to pull the girl closer.

Let me go! she said, struggling.

Just one kiss, love! he said amidst loud and raucous laughter.

Now, that’s enough of that there. The innkeep’s burly hand freed the girl. No manhandling the help!

I was just having some fun. The drunk leered at the girl, ignoring the inn keep. That whore is just playing hard to get!

I do not want your idea of fun in here, said the inn keep, a look of distaste on his face. I heard what you did to Emma, down the road. We don’t want the likes of you in this town.

But I have a taste for staying in this town. An ugly expression came over the drunk’s face as he slammed down some coins. Now, take that and give me a room, and some more ale!

The inn keep seemed torn between the desire for the coins and the distaste for the man. Then he shrugged and took the coins.

Upstairs, second room on the right. If you break anything, you pay for it!

He slammed down a tankard of ale as he left, still with that expression of distaste on his face. The serving girl had disappeared and was nowhere to be seen.

Ramsey finished his food and started to sip his water. Upstairs, second room on the right. The man was likely to be quite drunk, which was a pity. But then, he could not afford to pick and choose.

Slowly, the common room emptied. Ramsey waited till the inn keep had dragged the drunk up to his room before he rose.

Which is my room? he asked the serving girl who came in to clear the tables.

Upstairs, she said sullenly. First room to the left. It’s the best room in the house.

Thank you, he said, as he dropped a couple of coins on to the table. Money was easy to come by, and the girl would vouch for him if need be.

He went to his room, yawning. It was not a large room, and he wondered what the inn keep was so worried about breaking. Apart from the bed and a chest of drawers so old and dilapidated that it was crumbling where it stood, there was no other furniture in the room. He felt the sheets and grimaced. They were damp, but it was only to be expected in places like this. At least there was no dust or grime anywhere.

He waited till all the lights were out downstairs and a while more till he could be certain all were asleep. When he could sense that no one else was awake, he moved to lock his door, and went to the window to shut it, pulling the threadbare curtains closed. He stood in the middle of the room and focussed on the drunk’s heartbeats. Second room to the right. One heartbeat later, he was in the drunk’s room, the sound of the sleeping man’s heartbeat filling his ears, drowning out the sound of his snores. He approached the bed, not stealthily. The man was too far drunk to wake. He was sleeping, lying on his stomach. Ramsey turned him over, bent down over his wrist and bit into it, drinking deeply, his one hand splayed over the man’s forehead and the other holding his wrist in place.

The first taste of blood made him grimace. There was so much ale in the man’s blood stream, he could not taste the blood at all. But, within a few moments, the taste of ale was gone, and he was able to feed comfortably. The man groaned as the alcohol left his bloodstream, and stirred, struggling to wake. Ramsey pressed his thumb on the man’s temple, willing him to stay in his stupor. The man moaned once but remained still.

Ramsey rose when he was sated, wiping his lips on the man’s sleeve. The man was nearly dead, but if someone were to discover him in time, he might yet live, though Ramsey doubted the chances of that. There was only one physician in town, and he was the brother of Emma whom the drunk had attempted to rape two nights back, and whom he had beaten up badly when the attempt had failed. The physician would not be too eager to save the man’s life. Not that Ramsey was bothered one way or the other. One less drunken scum in the world made no difference. No one was going to miss him, that was for sure, which meant that no one was likely to come looking for him or the vampire who attacked him.

As he climbed in between the damp sheets of his own bed, he knew that there would be a hue and cry in the morning. People would whisper Vampire! and would start searching. But Ramsey had been around a while. He knew how to deal with searches. He had led quite a few himself.

He smiled to himself as he closed his eyes. Places like this never disappointed.

Two

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RAMSEY WAS WOKEN by a loud knocking on his door. He sat up, noticing it was nearly mid-morning. He got up and asked loudly enough. Who is it?

Open the door, sir. It was the innkeep’s voice. There’s been an accident to the gent staying in the other room, and the folk here are wishful of searching all rooms.

Ask them to wait till I get dressed, Ramsey said, sounding concerned. I do hope he’s okay, whoever he is.

There’s no saying, sir, the innkeep said. Not that many these parts’ll be sorry, but it’s still a bad thing to happen.

By this time Ramsey had dressed, and he opened the door. The innkeep was accompanied by half a dozen men, most of them looking nervous and fearful.

What happened to him? Ramsey asked as he stepped aside to let the men enter and search the room.

It was a vampire, one of the men said. He was a small man with a black moustache and sideburns, dressed in rough but clean clothes.

You don’t say! Ramsey exclaimed. Great Dragon! Are none of us safe?

It is a thing to be afraid of, for sure, another man said, a large man who looked like he’d rather be elsewhere. His eyes were bloodshot and there was a fine tremor to his hands which he tried to hide by gripping hard on the cudgel he was holding.

Bah! You’re an old woman, Selwyn! The small man who had spoken earlier said, Vampires don’t stick around once they’ve fed. No use being afraid, and no use searching for it either.

I do hope he’s gone, the innkeep said. It’s bad for business when vampires attack people in their rooms. It’s already difficult to find folk to stay here without vampires adding to the trouble.

By this time, the men had looked under Ramsey’s bed, gone through his pack and checked the window to make sure it was locked.

You heard nothing, sir? another man asked. He was of average height with keen grey eyes and straw-coloured hair that was visible under his cap. He was dressed in dark clothes which were slightly dusty.

I’m a heavy sleeper, Ramsey said apologetically. And I think I was lucky not to hear anything, or it might have been me that the vampire attacked.

I don’t think vampires would attack once they are full, the man said. Anyway, the physician’s with him now. Mayhaps he’ll survive.

Let’s hope so, the innkeep said fervently.

In the meantime, I think we should search the town and the woods, the black-haired man said. It can’t have gone far.

Why bother, Selwyn said. It would ‘ave left anyway. Why go after it?

What if it returns? Growled one of the others, a large man with bushy brown hair and moustache. I say we go after it and kill it before it comes back!

We’ll split into pairs, the small man who had spoken first said. Will you join us? This to Ramsey.

Ramsey gave a nervous laugh, I don’t know, should I?

I’ll come with you, the grey eyed man said. I’ve had some experience in these matters.

All right, Ramsey said, still sounding reluctant. Where do we search first?

Since neither of us are familiar with the town, we can search the woods over there, the man said, pointing.

Ramsey nodded and followed the man. The man led the way to the woods, picking up a stout staff and handing it to Ramsey.

Do you think this’ll do any good? Ramsey asked, doubtfully.

Not against vampires, the man said. But there might be other animals in there. He thrust out his hand at Ramsey. Mathew Ferren.

Ramsey Seymour. Ramsey shook hands with the man, taking care not to grip too hard. So, you’ve done this often?

A few times, Mathew said, as he took out a large blade to cut them a way through the woods. You seem new to this.

I’ve done it, but it was a while back, and we never found any vampires.

Mathew laughed. I haven’t found one either, but it makes the town-folks feel safe when we search. Otherwise, they would be imagining vampires everywhere.

Who was the man that was attacked? Ramsey asked.

He was staying at the same inn and you didn’t notice? Mathew sounded curious as he glanced back at Ramsey.

Ramsey shrugged, careful to keep his expression casual. A lot of people stay in inns. I mind my own business.

He was new in town. A troublemaker, from what I understood. Thought himself a ladies’ man, though the ladies disagreed. Apparently, that made no difference to him. Mathew swung his blade, cutting off a branch that was on the way.

No great loss in other words. Ramsey slid sideways to avoid the stump.

No one’s going to mourn him if he dies, that’s for sure, but people still feel afraid when there’s a vampire about. Mathew sheathed his blade. The path was more or less clear. They just attack at random, you know. No one feels safe when they’re around.

I can understand that, Ramsey said. I’m thinking of not staying, myself. Something about having been so near to a vampire scares me.

I know. I too will be moving soon. Mathew was panting slightly. They hadn’t walked too long, but they were in a clearing; there was no shade and the sun was hot.

Ramsey was also breathing hard. It was a trick he had picked up, to keep people from suspecting the truth. Do you think we could stop a bit? I’m not used to so much walking.

Nor I, Mathew said, his breathing easing as he stopped. I don’t think we’re going to find anything.

Shall we go back then? Ramsey asked

If we return too quickly, they’ll know we haven’t searched much. We’ll catch our breath a bit and then we’ll search a bit more.

Ramsey agreed, and they sat underneath a large tree, their backs to it. They were both silent as their breaths evened. It was still hot, but the woods to their back was shady and Ramsey knew there was water nearby.

It was Ramsey who broke the silence. So where are you from, Mathew?

From near the coast. I got tired of the beach and the sea. Thought I’ll move inland, maybe go to the mountains a bit. How about you?

Mathew had taken off his cap, and it was dangling from his hands, which were resting on his drawn-up knees.

Oh, I’ve been a town boy all my life. Moving from town to town. Maybe someday I’ll move to the coast, or go to the mountains. Right now, I prefer civilisation. Ramsey smiled.

Civilisation is grossly overrated, Mathew said. I prefer nature to man.

And what about vampires? They are part of nature too. Ramsey grinned.

Oh, I’ve nothing against them. I just don’t want to be a victim of their bloodlust. Mathew grinned back.

But you’ve never met one. How are you going to deal with it when you find it?

That’s why I hope I never find it, Mathew replied with a chuckle.

Ramsey chuckled too. I hope the same, he said.

I think we’ve rested enough, Mathew said as he got to his feet, and stuffed his cap into one of his pockets. Shall we push on?

Lead the way, Ramsey said as he too rose.

Three

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RAMSEY AND MATHEW GOT back to the town just as the sun was beginning to set. They discovered that the drunk had died, and the others had had no success in finding the vampire either. Ramsey was offered his room free of cost for the night in return for his help, which he accepted with thanks. Mathew was also offered a room in the inn which he declined politely.

I have to be moving, he said. I want to make it to the next village before nightfall.

The inn keep did not insist, and Mathew left immediately afterwards. Ramsey had ale and ham and afterwards retired to his room. He grimaced as he slipped between the damp sheets. The day had gone just as he had expected. He was not bothered that his victim had died. He would have been surprised if he had survived. He was not amazed at the futile search for the vampire either. Most people were afraid of vampires, and though they knew that vampires generally left the place once they’d fed, they still insisted on searching for them, even though they had no way of identifying one nor any idea how to kill one.

It was an entertaining day, all things considered. Of course, his next meal would need to come from some place which was far enough not to get the news of this kill, but that was not a problem. Since he had had a full meal, he would not be needing one for some time yet. In the meantime, he could travel again till he found a suitable town and a suitable prey. Next time, he would not kill in an inn. Not because of the attention, but just because he didn’t want to leave a pattern.

He yawned, and wondered if the serving girl might have gone to bed. She would be a pleasant distraction, but he decided against it. Sometimes, a bedmate found out things unintentionally, and though he could make her forget, there was no need to take such a chance. He had never cared much for such distractions anyway. In the morning, he would go to the next town and perhaps stay there for a couple of days. It was a nuisance, this having to sleep by night and travel by day, but his normal schedule would have been a dead giveaway. One thing most humans knew about vampires was that they hunted by night and rested by day, and though Ramsey longed to wake to a sunset, he was forced to settle for the sunrise instead. Not that he was complaining much. As prices for survival went, this one was too simple and quite easy.

Morning found him packed and ready. He had coffee and freshly baked bread for breakfast, and he insisted on paying for his room as well. The inn keep was much gratified and Ramsey was assured of a place to stay whenever he passed through town. Ramsey thanked the man and left. He had no intention of coming back to the town, but if he did, he could be certain of a welcome there.

He was given a ride to the next town by a farmer. The man was taking some of his produce to the fair there, and though he took Ramsey up, he was not interested in small talk, which suited Ramsey. The farmer’s cart was not very comfortable and Ramsey had to squeeze between baskets of vegetables, but it was better than walking in the hot sun. Though they didn’t get tired, vampires still held an aversion to the sun from the days when they could not walk in its light. In time, they found that the sun’s rays didn’t hurt them, and any vampire with a century or so under his belt found himself no different from a human except the occasional need to feed on blood.

Ramsey had been around for considerably longer than a century, and he was an adept at blending amongst the human populace. His need for blood was something he had never allowed to get out of control, and therefore, he had never come close to exposing himself. His moving from town to town was a matter of choice rather than necessity. He just liked to travel. Of course, staying in any place longer than a few years was a risk, but Ramsey had never experienced the desire to do so, and hence never had to face the possibility of exposure.

It was almost evening when they reached the town. The farmer let Ramsey down at the town square and Ramsey thanked him before going in search of an inn. The farmer was probably going to go to the fairgrounds where no doubt there would be accommodation, but Ramsey still needed to find a place to say. The town was cleaner than the one he had left behind and looked more prosperous. Perhaps he could stay here for a while.

But it was easier said than done. He had quite a hunt. The first two places he went to were full, and he was feeling upset by the time he reached the third. He decided to refresh himself before asking for a room. The first thing he saw on entering the inn’s common room was Mathew, sitting alone at a table, a tankard of ale in front of him. Ramsey lifted a hand in greeting and smiled as he joined him.

I thought you were moving on. Small world, eh?

A serving girl brought him a tankard of ale without asking, and he took a long pull.

Mathew grinned at him as he finished his own. Mighty small world. What brings you here?

Wanderlust, as usual. You planning to make a long stay here? Ramsey finished his ale and signalled for another. Needed that after the day. So? Planning to stay here long?

I’ve not decided yet. How about you? Mathew signalled for another tankard.

I might stay a week or so. This looks like a nice place. And I hear there’s a fair starting tomorrow. I might have a look in there.

The serving maid slammed down two tankards on the table, before rushing off to another table.

I might join you, then. Mathew looked eager, his eyes shining. I love fairs! You planning to stay in this inn?

If they have room. The other two places are full. Ramsey drained his ale in one go. Mathew looked bemused as he took a sip out of his own.

You better ask them for a room then, otherwise you can share with me. I got myself a room here.

Thanks. Ramsey smiled. I hope that won’t be needed.

The inn did have a room as it turned out, and Ramsey was fortunate since it was the last available room. Mathew told him he must have been born under a lucky star.

It must be because of the fair, Mathew said. The town seems to be full.

Yes. I hope it doesn’t attract any unsavoury elements, Ramsey said.

Nor vampires, Mathew said, with a teasing note to his voice.

You had to bring it up, Ramsey said reproachfully.

Mathew laughed, Are you that scared?

Aren’t you? Ramsey asked. There’s nothing can stop them. And if they choose to drink your blood, there’s nothing that can save you.

I’ve heard it’s painless. Mathew winked at him. Beats a lot other ways to die.

Ramsey laughed. I wouldn’t know; I haven’t died yet.

Mathew smiled, but he seemed abstracted. When Ramsey teased him about it, he laughed and said he was trying to imagine what he’d do if he were to find a vampire in his room. Ramsey hoped he’d never find out, and Mathew teased him again. By the time they went up to bed, Mathew was thoroughly drunk and Ramsey was pretending to be.

As he got in between the sheets, Ramsey thought that at least the sheets in this inn were not damp, the furniture was more sturdy and not as old and the room even smelled clean. He resolved to stay in the town for more than a week.

Four

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MATHEW WAS ALREADY UP and having breakfast when Ramsey came down the next morning.

Are you coming to see the fair? Mathew asked, eagerness evident in his tone.

Ramsey hesitated. He’d used the fair as a pretext for staying in the town for a while, but it seemed as if Mathew had taken him seriously. Ramsey knew of course that humans grew enthusiastic about the silliest things, but he had hoped that things like fairs were attractive only to children. Apparently, he was wrong. Mathew’s eyes were shining with enthusiasm and Ramsey gave an internal eye roll, while dredging up a smile and saying with a creditable pretence of interest, I was thinking I’ll give it a look. Are you going?

You bet! Told you I loved fairs. Tell you what. We can go together. There are a lot of unsavoury elements coming to these fairs, and there’s safety in numbers. What do you say?

Of course, Ramsey agreed, drinking his coffee, wondering what on earth he’d gotten himself into. He had always done everything alone. It was what helped him keep his identity a secret. But visiting a fair with a human couldn’t hurt, could it?

The fair was just how Ramsey imagined it would be. There was a lot of food and drink, and Mathew insisted on trying most.

You’ll be drunk before the morning’s done, Ramsey said drily.

There’s always another morning, Mathew said. Besides, it’s not likely. None of them are strong drinks.

There were also stalls where animals like a two headed calf and a six-legged dog were displayed. In another place was a man claiming to be The Strongest Man Alive. He was certainly big, and he did make an attempt to back up his claim by lifting a wagonful of people with some effort. He showed no effort in lifting a large barrel of water in one hand. though and kept roaring theatrically every now and then. Ramsey could hear his hurried heartbeat, so he was probably human. Not that a vampire would cheapen himself by such exhibitions. Besides, no vampire would have exerted so much while lifting that wagon. But Ramsey had to concede that it was an impressive feat for a human.

He’s really strong, isn’t he? he remarked to Mathew.

I suppose. Mathew shrugged. All these fairs have a strongest man. Some of them can make that guy over there look a midget. I’d seen one that could lift that guy and that wagon without breaking a sweat.

Ramsey managed to look suitably impressed. He saw the farmer who had given him a ride, and he smiled at the man. The man nodded at him, still looking dour. The whole area was devoted to fresh fruits and vegetables, and they both got a couple of apples each. There was also a tent where magic tricks were performed, and Ramsey managed to look interested and awed. Most people around him were wide-eyed and amazed including Mathew. But Ramsey’s eyes, sharper than the human eye, could see the trick, and so all he was feeling was a slight admiration for the ingenuity of the inventor of those tricks.

Later, Mathew dragged him over to a stall where an artist was claiming to sketch anyone in fifteen minutes. Mathew wanted to put it to the test, and he agreed to sit for the artist.

You might try a better pose. Ramsey grinned.

The artist nodded and said, true, and finally Mathew ended up leaning against a tree, one of his knees bent, his cap removed and a blade of grass between his teeth, looking dreamily into the distance. The artist was in raptures over the pose, Ramsey was doubled over with laughter, and Mathew scowled so fiercely as to ruin all effect of the stance. The artist looked reprovingly at Ramsey who controlled his mirth and at the end of thirty minutes, Mathew was presented his sketch free of charge since it took more than fifteen minutes.

It doesn’t even look like me, Mathew grumbled.

Ramsey disagreed. The unknown artist was certainly skilled, and the sketch looked exactly like its subject. He pointed out some of the similarities. Mathew began to look more cheerful at this, and said he would keep the sketch.

Something for my grandkids to look at some day, he said, cheerful again.

Yes, certainly, Ramsey agreed, feeling a strange warmth inside him.

He had never had friends, and he did not know if that was what Mathew was, but he still liked the feeling. If this was what having a friend was like, then Ramsey would not be averse to it. Of course, he knew that this could not last. Being what he was, it was not possible for him to form friendships with humans, but for this brief while, he could enjoy the camaraderie and the warmth it provided.

They returned much later, to find an air of tension in the town. The reason was evident as they passed a few rough sketches of a man underneath which was written, "Dangerous criminal. Wanted for rape and murder. All are requested not to come out of doors after dark. Any sighting of the above individual to be reported to the nearest magistrate or constabulary."

There was no name, but the sketch showed a rather good-looking man with dark hair and moustache with a mole over one eyebrow. Ramsey stared at the man’s face, frowning. He had seen that man a few weeks back, but had no idea he was so dangerous.

Looks like our quiet town has attracted some unwelcome attention, Mathew said, as he tore off the sketch from the wall, studying it intently.

Let’s get back to the inn, Ramsey said. It is not safe out here, not if a dangerous criminal is on the loose.

You’re right, Mathew agreed, as he folded and put the sketch in his pocket.

The common room was almost deserted. Ramsey and Mathew had a quiet dinner and went to bed almost immediately. Ramsey stood at the window of his room, a slight frown on his face. He waited till the inn was asleep, before going to Mathew’s room. Mathew was asleep. Ramsey willed him to stay asleep while he rummaged through Mathew’s pockets and took out the picture of the criminal. Another piece of paper fluttered to the floor as he took out the picture, but he ignored it. He put the picture in his own pocket, and then bent to retrieve the other paper, which was the sketch of Mathew taken at the fair. He replaced the sketch in Mathew’s pocket and made a silent exit.

Back in his own room, he studied the picture of the criminal. If he ever ran into him again, he would know him, and the meeting would not go well for the man in the picture. Such men were the easiest of prey because no one was likely to miss them, and even if someone found them dead, not a lot of hue and cry would be raised. Even the law wouldn’t bother trying to find out what happened. It wasn’t out of any chivalrous reasons that Ramsey fed from criminals and such scum; it was just more practical to do so.

Ramsey stuffed the picture back into his pocket, undressed and climbed in between the sheets, wondering how best to leave the town at the earliest. His desire to stay had not been lost, but he did enjoy hunting down a prey, and the man in the picture was one now.

Interlude 1

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RAMSEY SWITCHED OFF the lights and stood in the middle of the room, staring at the text message. Who are you? What do you want?

His fingers itched to send a reply, but he did not want to. It would be better to give Mathew his space.

Not Mathew, his mind corrected. The young man’s name was Mark Albert.

What’s in a name?

Whatever he called himself, it was Mathew. He knew it the minute his eyes had met his. He looked exactly like Mathew for one thing. The same straw-coloured hair, the same expressive grey eyes, the same obstinate chin, the same athletic body. It had taken all the centuries of self-control that he had not to exclaim in astonishment, not to betray his surprise, his anxiety and the turmoil inside him.

Ramsey poured himself a drink. Had he not known for a fact that Mathew did not have any family, he might have taken Mark for a descendant of the man. But Mathew had never had a family. So, this young man that he saw today had to be Mathew. After all, hadn’t Mathew once told him they believed in reincarnation? Ramsey took a sip from his drink, the alcohol not doing anything. He didn’t believe in reincarnation, but if vampires could exist, why was reincarnation an impossibility?

Besides, there was Mathew’s reaction to that piece that matched so closely with his own. There was also his reaction to him. A part of Mathew had recognized him. Ramsey still remembered the way he had stared at him and asked him, Have we met before?

How was he to answer that? This man had never met him. And even though he seemed to recognize him, he apparently didn’t remember him. Ramsey could well imagine his reaction were he to tell him, Yes, we have met before, in your past life, and we were friends.

That would certainly have gone well. And so he had evaded the question. Also, Ramsey had no idea how even to confirm his theory, though he was certain of it. That was why he had sent him that picture. The violent reaction it provoked, did tell him that the image did jolt some part of Mathew. After all, had that image not reminded Mathew of anything, there was no reason for him to ask what Ramsey was doing to him.

He sat down on the couch and picked up his phone. Should he reply? But what was he to say? He could not tell Mathew the truth. Perhaps he could play dumb and tell him he was only sending him an image he liked. But he did not want to dissimulate. He might confess the truth, but how could he to a man he had supposedly met for the first time that evening?

He hesitated, his fingers hovering over it, and then put the phone aside, his attention going to a picture on the far wall. It was a sketch, yellowed with age, but still perfect in details. The sketch depicted a young man, leaning against a tree, a blade of grass between his teeth, and one knee bent, a faraway expression on his face. The features bore a striking resemblance to Mark Albert’s.

Ramsey felt his chest tighten with emotion as he glanced at it. How he had laughed at Mathew the day it was made! He hardly knew Mathew then. He still remembered the day Mathew had given it to him. The grave look on his face, the calm smile on his lips, as he had given him that sketch.

Have it, Mathew had said. Something for you to remember me by when I am no more.

Ramsey looked at his phone again. The tight feeling in his chest was too painful to bear now. He could walk away, and save himself the heartache, save Mathew too perhaps. What if he already had someone? But what if there wasn’t? What if they still had a chance? What if he got a chance to say goodbye, to find closure?

He typed slowly. A chance to say goodbye.

Ramsey put the phone aside almost immediately. He was a fool. Mathew might be asleep now. Besides, Mathew didn’t remember him. How weird was his message going to sound? But how could he have said any less? Any more would have been creepy, but any less would have been false. It was already borderline creepy.

He picked up the phone again as if driven by a compulsion he couldn’t resist and typed. Ever is a long time, my friend.

His phone beeped. He stared at it but was afraid to pick it up and to see Mathew’s reply. He had never been a coward and had never run away from anything. He picked up the phone resolutely and opened Mathew’s message. He read it once, twice, and felt his chest constrict almost unbearably.

I’m sorry.

Ramsey sat there, in his darkened room, staring at the message, as his whole world came crashing down. One message. That was all it took. Mathew—Mark—either didn’t remember or he didn’t want Ramsey in his life anymore. What had he expected? It had been a long time. Mark had a life, a career, people who were not Ramsey in his life. He was a fool to think all he needed was to show up.

But was that what he had thought? He had been prepared for Mark not remembering him. He had been prepared even for a rebuff, but not an utter rejection. He would have expected Mark to at least want to talk to him, to - what? Mark had the right to decide he didn’t want Ramsey in his life. Ramsey had to respect that. It might even be better in the long run for him. He could finally let go, find closure to that chapter in his life.

Ramsey was aware of tears on his face. Oh. He hadn’t realised he was crying. Why was he crying, anyway? Mark was a stranger, and he had lost Mathew a long time ago.

Five

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RAMSEY WAS WOKEN BY A pounding on the door. For a moment, he felt disoriented, wondering what was happening. He half rose, staring balefully at the door.

Who is it?

Ramsey, open the door! It was Mathew. There’s been another vampire attack!

Another- Ramsey jumped out of the bed, all remnants of sleep effectively banished, and started dressing. Give me a moment to get dressed.

He opened the door to find Mathew with another group of men like in the previous town. Mathew looked upset. As the men went into search the room, he asked Mathew, Someone in the inn?

Mathew shook his head. No, it’s actually that sketch artist at the fair. He’s dead.

You mean the man that sketched you? Ramsey asked in shock.

Mathew nodded. He looked agitated, his face was pale, and his hands were clenched tightly by his sides. His cap was missing, and his hair was disordered. There was a flush on his cheeks in contrast to the paleness of the rest of his visage.

You’re certain it’s a vampire? Ramsey asked.

He’s been completely drained of blood. What else could it be? Mathew asked, one hand rubbing his eyes before raking over his hair.

You need my help in searching for it? Ramsey asked grimly.

By this time the men had come out of the room, apologising profusely for the disturbance. Their leader seemed to have heard Ramsey’s question, for he said, We could use all the help we can find to search for it. To think a vampire and a killer both in our town at the same time! I don’t know which is worse!

We’ll search the fairgrounds, Mathew said, his face and voice forbidding.

Ramsey nodded. Mathew seemed not interested in talking much today, searching the grounds with a single-minded intensity. Ramsey too did not care for conversation. He focussed on listening to the heart beats of the people around. If any of them were vampires, he’d know. Vampire hearts beat slower than humans most of the time; it was as if they had no heart beats. Older vampires like Ramsey knew how to speed up their hearts to match humans, but younger vampires didn’t know the trick. Of course, Ramsey didn’t know if it was a younger vampire, but the death of the victim seemed to point to it. Older vampires always left their victims with a chance for survival. Most victims didn’t live, but that was either because they were found too late, or the humans who found them had no means to help them.

Who found him, do you know? Ramsey asked Mathew.

His wife, Mathew said grimly. He was already dead when she found him.

When did she?

Just after midnight. She roused the others at the fair, and they went and fetched the physician, but none of the townspeople would do anything till it was morning because of that criminal who was sighted here.

Do anything to search for the vampire, you mean, Ramsey said.

If they had searched in the night, they could have found him! Mathew said, suppressed anger throbbing in his voice.

And then what? Ramsey asked. Mathew, do you really think those people could have taken on a vampire in the night? What they did was the sensible thing.

I don’t care about sensible! Mathew flared up. I would have gone looking for him had I known!

And how were you proposing to stop him? How are you proposing to stop him now, if you find him?

Mathew glared at him, but Ramsey met the glare calmly. You have to be sensible about this, he said. You can’t take it personally. You hardly seemed to care in the last town.

That was a drunk rapist who was attacked! Of course, I did not care! This was a harmless man; a man with a family! The situation is entirely different!

Is it? Ramsey asked. Who are you to decide this man’s life is worth more?

What are you trying to say? That we should stop searching? Mathew glared at him belligerently.

No. All I am saying is that you should take a step back. If you are doing this, don’t get emotionally involved.

Ramsey wasn’t bothered by Mathew’s glare. He didn’t know much about humans, but he knew they could be unbelievably stupid.

And who in the abyss are you to give me advice? Mathew yelled. You’re so scared, you wouldn’t even stay in town once a vampire has been sighted.

Tell me how you propose to stop this vampire, Ramsey said, ignoring Mathew’s tirade. Also, in case you haven’t noticed, we’re on the same side here. I’m trying to help you.

Mathew looked down and wiped his face with his hand. You know what? I’ll do this myself. I don’t need your help. Why don’t you leave town? Before the big scary vampire comes back.

You’re not in charge here, Ramsey said drily. And it is not for you to say what I should do.

You mean you’re not going to leave town? Mathew asked, still glaring.

I was going to leave town anyway, Ramsey said. With a dangerous killer on the loose, only a fool would stay here!

Convenient, isn’t it? Mathew sneered.

Ramsey thought he’d never be able to figure out humans. Mathew had seemed like a sensible person, but here he was, getting emotional because a vampire attacked someone he knew. And though he had absolutely no idea how to kill a vampire, he was ready to rush off and search for it. It was really most foolish, but just what one could expect from a human, especially one as young as Mathew was.

Ramsey would have liked to leave, and yet, somehow he did not want to. He would stay with Mathew till he finished searching for this vampire, if only to make sure the stupid human didn’t get killed. If they actually came across a vampire, Ramsey wasn’t certain how he could save Mathew without giving away his own identity. If necessary, he could make Mathew forget, but Ramsey wasn’t too keen on it since in some cases, the forgetfulness was temporary, lasting for a decade or two only.

Are you planning to spend the whole morning arguing with me, or are you planning to search for this vampire? he asked.

Mathew kept glaring but Ramsey held his eyes steadily, and it was Mathew who dropped his eyes. He shrugged. There’s no point really. He would have got out of town in the night itself.

Probably, Ramsey agreed. But are you going to stop searching based on that assumption?

No, Mathew said. I thought you didn’t want me to continue the search.

What I don’t want is for you to get emotionally involved. That will only get you in trouble.

How can you be so cold? Mathew demanded. How can you not care at all?

I do, Ramsey said. But I know better than to let it affect me.

Mathew shook his head. You’re a strange man, Ramsey.

Ramsey felt his lips curve into an amused smile. I know.

Six

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THEY WENT BACK TO THE inn after a fruitless search of the fairgrounds. Ramsey was just as determined as Mathew to find the vampire. That another vampire could have attacked someone while he was in town was intolerable. It was an insult, and Ramsey was determined that the unknown vampire would be made to pay. Mathew remained dour and angry, and Ramsey was growing impatient with the man, and eager to leave town so he could put some distance between the moody human and himself. Ramsey could never understand the mood swings of humans, but he had never had to contend with it before. It annoyed him,