" It wasn't really appropriate to include this aspect of the myth in Stalking Tender Prey, so I was glad to be given the opportunity to explore it in the story for this anthology ."
The trouble was she was just his type. Sitting at the back of the stuffy pub function room, her eyes fixed upon him, she commanded his attention, apparently without effort. He could tell she was tall, because her head was the highest on the row. Her hands were clasped in her lap and she was dressed in black.
She had come to watch the famous historical investigator and author, Noah Johnson, deliver a lecture. He found he was playing to her alone throughout the evening. He knew the talk, "Vampires in Myth and History", off by heart, having delivered it countless times before. He updated it constantly, but essentially it was the same old stuff: colourful but careful. He was selective about what he gave the punters. He knew how to please a mixed crowd.
The regular meetings, "Enigmas of History," were going well. He ran it once a fortnight in the upstairs room of his local pub, the Gun and Duck, and now had a regular attendance of around fifty people. Sometimes, he had to turn some away. More than fifty and the front row started fainting. He'd started it to augment his writing income, for the periods when funds were slack — a downside of any writer's life. But it was going so well, he had planned more events; outdoors, now that summer was coming. Sarah would have loved all this. But he mustn't think about her now. She was no longer part of his life.
Noah's friend and assistant, Gary, dimmed the lights in preparation for the slide show. Some of the audience were fanning themselves with the handouts Gary's girlfriend, Abby, had placed on every seat prior to the meeting. The windows were open, but did little to improve the air quality in the room.
One by one, the slides slipped across the screen: illustrations copied from ancient texts, photographs Noah had taken himself while investigating in far corners of obscure eastern European countries. Some of them had been reproduced in Noah's bestselling book, The Search for Nosferatu . The subject no longer captivated him: he'd done it and it was over, but the public were always hungry for it. Noah had moved on to other things and was currently researching his next book, which was concerned with the mythical landscape of the remote Scottish islands, and how the strange ancient structures there might have come to be built.
When the lights came back on, Noah's eyes were drawn immediately to the girl on the back row. He half expected to see that she'd left. That would be just his luck, but no, there she was, sitting straight and demure, gazing at him from beneath downcast lashes, a slight smile on her lips.
He began to answer questions from the audience, but was anxious to keep it short tonight. If people wanted to air their opinions, which most of them did, especially the regulars, they could continue in the bar downstairs. He interrupted a woman as she was speaking. "Hey, it's too hot up here. Shall we move down?"
Most of them would go home, but the ones who saw themselves as the core of his group would remain until closing time. It was only nine o'clock.
People started getting out of their seats, apparently as eager as he was to escape the hot function room. The woman who'd been interrupted looked crestfallen, somewhat confused.
Gary and Abby began clearing up, gathering the dropped leaflets, packing away the slide equipment. "Good turnout," Gary said.
"You could hire a bigger place," Abby suggested. "You'd still pack it."
Noah was looking at the crowd shuffling out. He saw that the girl in black had remained in her seat. He smiled at her and she stood up. He went towards her.
"Excuse me, Mr Johnson, would you mind if I asked you something?"
"Of course not," he said. "Come down to the bar. We usually stay on for a few drinks."
"Thank you."
He put his arm behind her proprietorially to guide her to the door.
"Thanks, Noah!" Abby called behind him. "We'll just finish off, shall we?"
He grinned back at her and she shook her head in mock disapproval. Abby was used to him and he knew how much he could get away with.
Downstairs, punters insisted on buying Noah drinks, but he bought one for the girl himself. "I haven't seen you here before," he said, leaning on the bar.
She pulled a face. Her features were delicate, mobile. "No, I've only just moved here. It was great to discover this group, especially that it's run by you. I've got all your books."
He laughed. "Thanks." In his mind, he could hear Abby's warning cry of: "Noah! She's a fan, okay? For God's sake, be careful."
The girl brushed strands of dark hair from her eyes. Her well-shaped lips were painted perfectly in a dark purple. Her dress was of black lace and velvet, down to the floor. She was virtually the same height he was. "I'm Lara, by the way. Lara Hoskins."
Noah handed her a vodka and tonic. When she took it from him, he saw that her lace cuffs came right down to her fingers. The nails were painted black. "So, what did you want to ask me?" He was conscious of the eyes of his core group upon him, their resentment at a newcomer monopolizing him. Normally, this was the time for Noah to hold court.
"Well, I have to admit it was the subject of the talk tonight that most attracted me," Lara said. She laughed nervously. "Not that I wouldn't have come anyway, of course"
"And?"
"Why don't you talk about the origins of the vampire myth?"
"I do. You heard it."
She was silent for a moment. "I think we both know there's more to it than that."
"Essentially, it's European, although there are parallels in Mesopotamian and Judaic mythology."
"But where do those myths come from?"
"There are recurrent themes in every mythology. People the world over have the same fears, the same desires. There's no reason to think the vampire myth comes from a single root source."
"But in Nosferatu , you implied differently."
"What are you getting at?" Noah said, grinning. "Don't tell me you're a vampire searching for your roots!"
A vampire would certainly not colour up the way she did then. "I have a serious interest in the subject," she said. "I'd hoped you'd take me seriously too."
"Look," he said. "If you want the truth, I think people can become obsessed with certain myths, especially the vampire ones. It's dangerous."
"How?" She looked hungry.
"Any obsession is dangerous. I don't like to encourage it." He was thinking of Sarah. Her face was before his eyes, sad and despairing.
"What happened?" Lara asked in a low voice. It was as if she knew already.
He could tell her easily. She could be his confessor. "I knew someone," he began. Then a hand slapped his back.
"Hey!" It was Abby. "Don't tell me you haven't got drinks in for us!" She smiled at Lara. "He treats us like lackeys!"
"Sorry," Noah said. He turned to attract the attention of the barman.
For the rest of the evening Abby refused to leave Noah's side. He knew why. Abby knew him too well. She was good company and gave no indication to Lara that she was suspicious of her, but Noah was well aware of his friend's feelings.
After last orders, when the group was breaking up, Noah said to Lara, "There's an event next Sunday. We're going on a tour of local ancient sites, churches, springs and so on. Should be quite a convoy. Would you like to come?"
"Well" Lara put her empty glass down on the bar. "Might be difficult. I don't have transport."
"I could pick you up," said Noah.
"Great!" Lara opened her bag and rummaged in it. "I'll give you my address. What time?"
"Oh, about midday."
"It'll cost a tenner," said Abby, somewhat darkly.
"Good value," Lara said, taking the lid off a fountain pen.
Outside, in the car park, Abby started on Noah. "What are you up to?" she demanded. "I thought you'd decided to leave punters well alone."
"What do you mean?" Noah countered, fiddling with his keys.