and what his students could make of it. Edmund was too busy building something new to worry about imitating his old, lost self.”
“For a guy who chose not to be your client, you’ve really given him some thought.”
“We all have lessons to learn, Mr Phillips, and now a lot less time to study them. I believe the Professor had something to teach me, so I’m trying my best to take it to heart.”
He looked down at the tips of his stretched fingers and his face twitched a little as if tugged by an unseen fishing line.
“Help me out here, Doc, because I need to know for sure; is there anything you can think of that might have sent him back? He was a killer once. They all were. I get that he’s accepted this sad new world and all the changes in it, but surely something could have set him off. With all these fangs you’ve fitted to their mouths, you never wondered whether it wasn’t just for show? That maybe you were putting weapons in the mouths of monsters?”
The warm glow of his memories disappeared and was replaced by the clinical coldness that came with his work.
“They’re dead men, Mr Phillips. We all are. I only try to give my patients a little dignity before they go. A way to deal with the fact that your kind fucked it up for all of us. They are ornamental, nothing more, and I am deeply offended that you would suggest any different. It’s time for you to go.”
I searched his face to see if he was covering something, but it all seemed real to me. The same kind of pain we were all carrying around. Nothing sinister or twisted or hidden. Just honest, exhausted sadness.
“Thanks for your help, Doc. I appreciate your candor.”
I stepped away and let him close the door on another no-through road.
I pulled the photo of Rye out of my pocket. His mouth was closed, so it was impossible to see if the dentist was right. But why doubt it? If the Doc, Eileen, Baxter and Deirdre Gladesmith were to be believed, then Rye had found a way to look forward. That’s what we all wanted, right?
But I’d found two dead Vampires in a teahouse and a wannabe-Vampire messenger had tried to warn me away. Whatever had happened to Professor Rye, I was convinced that The League of Vampires had something to do with it.
There was a payphone on the corner of the block, so I called the operator and asked to be connected to the library.
“Hey, Cowboy. Any news?”
“Nothing heartwarming, I’m afraid. I just have a couple more questions.”
“Fire away.”
I asked Eileen about the fangs, and she confirmed Blight’s story. Apparently, Rye was happy being a gum-shark. Fangless. According to Eileen, he just didn’t seem to care.
“Did he have any visitors? Vampires, specifically?”
“No, not that I know of. His only connection to his own kind were those flyers.”
“Do you mind if I drop by again? Maybe I should take another look through his mail.”
“I’m packing up here so I’ll bring them down to the bar with me. See you at The Roost in an hour.”
20
The raindrops attacked the street like it was personal and wind pushed the water up at every angle, filling gutters, boots and eyelids. I spent most of the walk downtown waiting under shelter to stay out of the worst of it. Eileen, who needed to open the bar on time, hadn’t had that luxury. She was soaked. But, when I ran up to the bar and found safety under the awning, something close to happiness slid up her face. It was the warmest greeting I’d been given in years.
“Pull up a pew, Cowboy.” She pulled a large envelope from under her shirt. “Kept them as dry as I could. Whiskey?”
“Thanks.”
I wasn’t even the first customer. At the other end of the bar was a gentleman whose waist-length mane was a pattern of white, black and gray. An old cloak was draped over his slender body and his mouth was masked by beer-foam and whiskers.
His right hand was working the air. Every few seconds he would flick his wrist in a new direction and his fingers would create some new symbol. Ditarum. I’d never seen much of it but I knew the process. He was throwing spells. Or the shadows of what spells used to be.
I sat and watched his dancing fingers till Eileen dropped a whiskey down in front of me.
“What’s he doing?”