Serafina and the Virtual Man - By Marie Treanor Page 0,39
acid-free paper, closed the book, and stroked it. So the Founder, the once mortal human from whom all vampires were descended, even the mass-produced and inferior survivors of last year’s battle, had been in Bulgaria around 1620. Whether his intention had been to save the village from a marauding killer vampire or to save that vampire from execution, he’d been there. A tiny discovery that felt like a massive breakthrough to Melanie.
She stood up, yawning, and stumbled out of her sitting room in the general direction of the bathroom. Since the hall was in darkness, she reached for the light switch, and some deeper darkness surged in front of her eyes.
Her heart swooped in sudden alarm. All the protective spells she’d ever learned vanished from her mind.
I’m mince, she thought with resignation.
Nothing happened.
Melanie let out her breath and flicked the light switch. There was nothing there. No shadow, no creature, no feeling of malevolence. Had the surging shadow been malevolent? It hadn’t hung around long enough for her to find out.
But then, she was knackered. She’d already been asleep and wasn’t exactly at her sharpest. The shadow could easily have been imagination. She relaxed and crossed the hall to the bathroom, reminding herself that the whole house was protected by the strongest of spells. Anything evil—or even anything very unevil that hadn’t been invited—would have a bloody hard job getting through her protection. She was a strong witch.
Still, it left her uneasy. She’d phone Sera in the morning, get her to come up here and check the place for any uninvited presences.
****
“Andy, wake up, you lazy arse.”
Unwilling to touch any of the dirty clothes lying on the floor this time, Jilly resorted to manual and merely shook her brother awake until he sat bolt upright in bed yelling, “Fuck off!”
“Trust me I will. Did you kill some poor bastard when you broke into the Ewans’ house?”
“Shite, not this again,” Andy groaned. “Have I not got enough on my plate? I told you, we didn’t have a gun. The shot came from someone else, and we ran away.”
“I didn’t ask if you shot him. Did you strangle him?”
Andy stared, blinked, and opened his mouth.
“Think carefully,” Jilly warned, “because if I even suspect you’re not telling the truth I’ll bring Sera MacBride here to find out.”
“Jillian, for f—”
“Did you or George strangle someone?”
“Of course we bloody didn’t!”
Huffily, he threw himself back down on the pillow and dragged the quilt up over his ears.
After a moment, Jilly said reluctantly, “So what’s piled so high on your plate, then?”
“Aw, nothing,” Andy said, his voice muffled by the covers. “Just some big psycho bastard got wind of the night I slept with his girlfriend. Word is, he isn’t pleased.”
“Better start grovelling, then,” Jilly advised.
“Don’t think that works on Axel.”
“Axel?” Jilly repeated with disbelief.
“Aye, it’s the axe you have to worry about.”
Jilly scowled at the huddle of quilt. “So what are you going to do?”
“Pray,” Andy said, dragging the quilt down as far as one ear. “At the moment, he doesn’t know it was me. So as long as no one grasses me up, I’m fine.”
Jilly saw no reason to encourage that line of insane optimism. “You’re dead, then,” she observed, and turned and left.
Chapter Nine
Sera was cramming a piece of toast into her mouth and reaching for her coffee at the same time when her phone rang. Which was annoying. She was already late and in a hurry, and the toast was still warm. She didn’t have time to make a fresh slice, even supposing there was any more bread in Blair’s house. Human food was not high on his shopping list.
Still chewing, she grabbed the coffee with her right hand and picked up her phone from the living room table with her left. It was Melanie, so she answered.
Melanie was her only link with the past, with her real parents, the one continuous thread which had run through Sera’s disjointed life. Besides being a powerful witch, the apprentice of Sera’s own mother, she was Sera’s best friend in the world after Jilly. There was no way she wouldn’t answer Melanie, however tempting the siren call of warm, buttered toast.
“Hi, Mel,” she mumbled with her mouth full.
“Sera?”
“Yes, it’s me. Breakfast,” she explained, swallowing. She took a gulp of coffee. “What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing. Everything’s fine. Just wondered if you had a few free hours to come up here?”
“Today? Don’t think I can. I have this appointment at ten, and besides, the shit’s hit the fan over