Refuge by Kirsty Ferry Read Free Book Online

only make himself look foolish. Rather that, than have this opportunity slip through his fingers.
                    ‘Excuse me!’ he called. His voice sounded loud and out of place in the quiet lane. The couple stopped and the man turned around. The woman kept her face turned away from him. ‘This may sound quite strange, but I couldn’t help noticing that you were trying to visit a friend of mine a few moments ago.’ Kester almost choked on the word ‘friend’. How could that creature have been anyone’s friend? ‘I met him in Northumberland. He gave me that address, but I was unable to get an answer from the door. Do you know where he might be today?’
    The man stared at Kester, seeming to weigh him up. ‘You ask some strange questions, Sir,’ he said. ‘Why should I answer them?’
    Kester felt the annoyance bubble up within him. Why were these things so bloody arrogant all the time? ‘You do not have to answer me, Sir,’ he replied. ‘Certainly not. You do not have to explain yourself either. I was simply curious. I bid you farewell.’ He nodded briefly and made as if he were to leave the alleyway. There was the faintest whoosh and he felt a cold breeze behind him. He turned, raising the dagger at the same moment the man reached out to grab him. The dagger found its mark; the vampire shrieked, exploding into a cloud of dust as it was slain. The vampire’s partner screamed. She hurled herself at Kester, her eyes wild and blood-red. Kester struck once more and the blade landed between her breasts. She howled and stared at the dagger before collapsing into ash. It proved to Kester which house he needed to visit. Although, if he was honest with himself, he was unsure of what he hoped to find once he arrived there.
    ***
    Tucking the dagger safely into his waistband, Kester pulled his waistcoat down to hide it, and shrugged his frock coat around him. Pushing his hands deep inside his pockets, he sauntered out of the alleyway back towards Curzon Street. All the while, he was planning the best way of entering the house. It seemed to him that his only option was through the back of it. He turned sharply onto Market Mews – the little street that would take him along the back of the terrace. He walked along to the end, assessing which house he needed to be at. There was a high brick wall along the back of the terrace, but there were gates leading out from each house on to the Mews. Kester was considering his chances of success, should he have to somehow break into a yard and clamber through the neighbouring ones until he got there, when he saw his opportunity. It was as if God was welcoming him; one of the gates was ajar. It was as if someone had left in a hurry and clashed the gate shut, but it hadn’t caught on the latch and had bounced back. As he stood staring at it, Kester realised that this was, indeed, the house he had wanted to enter.
                    ‘Thank you, God,’ he murmured, and pushed the door open wide enough for him to slip inside the yard. From the back, the house looked just as grim as the front did. He crouched down, keeping close to the dividing wall of the neighbouring house and made his way to the back door. He sensed that there was nobody around, but his heart still pounded in his chest. He felt around the door to see if that too was ajar, but it wasn’t. Then he leaned his shoulder against it, to see if he could somehow open it with force. The door would not budge. He stood back and looked around him. He saw the basement window at ground level, and wondered if it was possible to drop down into the space and try to get in that way. He stood quietly, and pressed his ear against the back door, listening for sounds within the house. Nothing. He took a deep breath and stepped towards the basement space. In one movement, he was down in the gap. He hoped he could somehow get in – otherwise he was well and truly trapped.
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