Refuge by Kirsty Ferry Read Free Book Online Page A

window slid upwards as many of them in these buildings did, and he tried to prise the pane up to gain access. A piece of rotten wood on the window sill suddenly gave way and it gave Kester’s fingers enough purchase to push the pane up. The window moved – enough for him to slot both hands into the gap and continue to push it up with all his strength. The window creaked and groaned and sweat dripped down Kester’s forehead. Eventually, it slid up and Kester was staring at a space wide enough for him to crawl through. This definitely led into the kitchens – and if a vampire lived here, he doubted that it would have need for a food preparation area such as this every day.
                    Kester slipped through the window and almost immediately his nostrils were assailed by a smell that made him gag. The whole room stank of rotting meat. He covered his mouth with his forearm and retched. He stumbled through the room and pushed open a door that he guessed led out into a corridor. The smell was worse here, if that were possible and he tripped over something on the floor.
                    ‘Dear God!’ he cried, as he steadied himself. Lying on the floor was the decomposing remains of what he assumed had once been a scullery maid. He could just make out her white hat and apron in the gloom. He tried to push his way through another door, which at first resisted his efforts to open it. Partially blocking the door, at the bottom of a stone staircase, was what Kester assumed had once been a butler. He ran up the stairs and found himself in the main hallway of the house. Grand reception rooms led off from either side of it, the doors wide open. Through one door, Kester made out another body – a chamber maid, this time; still clutching a bunch of shrivelled flowers in her hand. A footman, dressed in golden livery was huddled by the front door. Thick masses of flies buzzed around the place and Kester ran up another flight of stairs. Door after door stood open; a similar scene greeting him in many of the rooms. He did not dare investigate the dining room too thoroughly; one glance was enough to satisfy him that the bodies of several people, men and women, were ranged around a table covered with blood and broken crockery. The body of a young girl was amongst them; her eyes stared sightlessly out of the door towards Kester and she reminded him somehow of his sister. He made the sign of the cross and closed the door to the room, feeling utterly helpless. It was as if something had purged the house of all life; and Kester decided that this carnage could not possibly be the result of one creature’s greed. It was more than likely the work of the vampire he had met on Lindisfarne, assisted by his elegant, hungry friends.
                    Kester made his way through some more rooms. One small room which led off a hallway was devoid of bodies and seemed to be a study or a library of some description. He moved over to the walnut desk which sat in the middle of the room and pulled the drawers out. He rifled through the contents of the drawers one by one: household bills and accounts, advertisements, old scribbled notes – the usual detritus of day to day life. He wanted to find something which would give him a clue as to where the vampire’s friends resided. The vampires he had encountered were well-dressed, cultured looking individuals. They could be swarming around Mayfair and Kensington for all he knew. He was willing to bet that the one who had killed his sister was from the area. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if the vampires actually bred – whether the couple he had seen today, perhaps, had any children? He doubted it. Reason and research told him vampires only increased the number of their species by choosing victims which they changed. The thought was abhorrent to him – not just the changing, but the thought of them making love and acting like animals. Surely there could be