Suzanne McLeod - The Sweet Scent of Blood

For Norman with love now and always

The vampire looked a beautiful, dangerous clich. Jet-black hair tied back in a French plait emphasised the pale angles of his face. Shadowed grey eyes stared out with moody promise. Black silk clung to hard abdominals while soft leather stretched down long, lean legs. An ankle-length coat pooled across the stone steps on which he sat so it seemed he existed in his own well of seductive darkness. Behind him, the ferris-wheel silhouette of the London Eye, backlit by exploding fireworks, added a less than subtle suggestion to the scene.

The picture was splashed across the front page of every national newspaper: a celebrity story made more sensational than the norm thanks to the mix of murder and vampires. Other than providing a few moments of idle interest, the news had nothing to do with me.

Or so I thought.

London was in the middle of a late September heat-wave and the bright sunshine blistered hot into the city as I sat at my usual corner table in the Rosy Lea caf, staring at the vampires picture. Outside the tourists that normally thronged Covent Garden huddled in the shade under the stone canopy of St Pauls Church. Even the street entertainers had succumbed to the heat, leaving the expanse of cobbled paving deserted. Inside the empty caf was no better. There was no air-conditioning and even with the doors wide open, the hot, heavy air pressed against me as if it were something solid. If nothing else it was peaceful.

I work for Spellcrackers.comMaking magic safe!and Id spent a long, frustrating morning chasing pixies through a crowded Trafalgar Square. A pack of them had been attempting to animate the huge bronze lions. The magic was way out of their league of course, but this was their fifth attempt in a month and I had to give them points for persistence if nothing else. Thanks to the pixies, Id missed lunch, and Id been hoping for a quick bite before my next job. But Katie, the waitress, had other ideas.

She pulled more papers in front of me. Check these out, Genny!

I cast a long-suffering look over the headlines.

CELEBRITY VAMPIRE ARRESTED IN GIRLFRIENDS MURDER screamed one. TIME RUNS OUT FOR MR OCTOBERS DATE was another. And the very snappy, ONE BITE WAS ENOUGH! None of them likely to win any prizes for headline of the year, but they were definitely eye-catching, if only for the font size.

Katie pointed to the picture of the vampire and sighed. Its so tragic. Her fingers stroked her blue heart pendant, the one she always wore. Mr October ... isnt he gorgeous? Thats the pic they used in the calendar, yknow.

Uh-huh, I muttered. Katies teenage obsession with vamps was one I didnt participate in.

The calendar showing all the touristy places? She nudged me for emphasis. Yknow, the vamps dressed up all historical? There was this fab shot of this handsome Cavalier standing in front of Buck Houseooh, and Mr April, the Roman centurion, now hes hot, but not as hot as

Talking of hot, I interrupted, you couldnt get me my orange juice, could you, Katie? Im dying of thirst here.

Ha, Ha. Very funny, Genny. She swung away to the counter, looking cool in her floaty skirt and strappy top.

Briefly, I closed my eyes. Then, concentrating on that part of me that sees the magic, I focused on Katie as she disappeared into the kitchen. A deep cobalt blue shimmered around her in the place I imagined her aura would be if I could actually see it. Relief settled in me. The protective warding spell Id bought and attached to Katies heart pendant was as strong as ever. Covent Garden Market is Londons Witch Central; you can buy anything, from a bad-hair-day remedy to a noisy neighbour muffler to an anti-Congestion Charge charmeven if the last is illegal. And working there has its advantages, but it still pays to be careful. Upset a witch and they dont just shout at you ... angry red boils is never a good look.

Isnt this weather just too much? Katies voice drifted out into the empty caf as she chatted to Freddie, the cook. They were saying on the telly it hasnt been this hot for at least ten years, yknow.

I fanned myself with the menu, the slight breeze disturbing my hair where the short ends stuck to the back of my neck. The cream linen waistcoat I wore was cool enough, but the black trousers had been a mistake. Trouble is, Ive never been much for skirts, and shorts just dont have the right professional image. I scanned the caf interior, checking for any other stray spells that might be lurking. It took a whole chapter of coven witchesall thirteen of themto produce a warding complex enough for business premises, and that was way too rich for Freddies pockets, so, in return for the occasional bacon sandwich, I tidied up on a regular basis instead.

The caf was clear of magic, but I glanced down and caught a faint glow coming from my phone. Crap. I snatched up the phone and with a sense of resigned inevitability peered at the thumbnail-sized crystal on the back. A fracture like a black splinter lodged in the crystals centre. Damn pixies. Even being careful, Id still managed to crack the phones protection spell when Id cleared up all their dust. Now Id risk frying the phone next time I defused a spell if I didnt buy another crystal, and they werent cheap.

Could my day get any worse?

I dumped the phone on the table and gave the newspapers an irritated look. It wasnt the crystal, although that was bad enoughLondon is expensive, even with the rent subsidy I got with my job. And it wasnt the weather, my clothes or even the pixies that had me on edge. It was the vampires. Theyd deviated from their self-imposed politically correct script. And I hadnt a clue why.

Over the last few years, the vampires had crawled out of their coffins (not that Id ever known one to actually sleep in a coffin) and brushed the dirt from their public image. Theyd poured new blood into British Tourism and transformed the more presentable among themselves into A-list celebs.

Its amazing what a collection of glossy pictures and a no-expense-spared marketing campaign can do. With a steady diet of tourists and infatuated youngsters like Katie satisfying both their physical and financial needs, the vampires pretty much had it all dished up on a plate. Even the current feeding frenzy about the murder had less to do with the accused being a vamp and everything to do with him being a hot property among Londons nightlife. I sighed. At least the newest round of government legislation meant sixteen-year-old Katie had another two years before reality could legally sink its fangs into her media-induced crush.

Id been fourteen when it had happened to me.

I rubbed the phantom throb at the curve of my neck, then dug my fingers into the smooth skin, trying to ease the annoying sensation that the memory had raised. Fourteen was ten years and a different lifetime ago, and the law and the vamps had never been overly concerned when it came to the likes of me.

Here you go, Genny. Katie plonked my juice down and lifted another paper.

The juice slipped down my throat and spread a chill through my body instead of the warmth I craved. Id have to wait until later for that. I flicked a finger at the paper Katie was reading. Dont suppose theres any news of my bacon sandwich, is there?

Uh-huh, she muttered, half ignoring me, in a sec.

Hope youre not expecting a tip, I added.

Freddies doing it. She gave me a superior look from around the edge of the paper. And anyway, Freddie says Im a much better waitress than you ever were, so there.

Means nothing, I grinned. He says that to all the girls.

Katie sniffed and snapped the paper back up between us.