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Cullen’s pale, thin features framed dark brooding eyes that slowly scanned the ‘Gormanghast’ night-club. The air was thick with smoke that danced eerily in the dim lights. The heady aroma of perfume, sweat and blood beckoned him. His shoulder length jet-black hair matched the long leather coat which he unbuttoned and allowed to swing open. As Cullen walked to the bar, he continued to look around. He knew members of a vampire cult frequented the club and had knowledge of Tasmin.
At the bar, a young woman smiled at him,
“Hello, I don’t remember seeing you here before.”
“I’ve not been here before.” he replied calmly and turned away slightly to indicate his lack of interest in her.
“Okay, fair enough. Buy you a drink anyway?”
Cullen turned back again, it was not often that a human surprised him. Perhaps he had been too hasty in dismissing this one. She had bright blue intelligent eyes, elfin face and short, brown hair cut in a bob. He nodded,
“Bloody Mary please.”
“Ah, hence the get up. You’re one of that vampire lot.”
“No, I just like tomato juice with my vodka.”
“Oops, sorry. Mind you, the look suits you better than most of those sad prats.”
“Thank you, I think your look is also erm, interesting.”
She glanced down at her pale blue crop top and patched jeans,
“Oh ta mush.”
“I’m curious about the ‘vampire lot’ – what do you know of them?”
“Well, let’s sit in one of the booths, it’ll be a bit quieter there.”
The girl guided him to a line of enclosed booths on the far wall. They sat and she introduced herself as Sirocco.
“So what d’you want to know?”
Cullen spread his hands wide,
“Anything and everything.”
“And why?”
“I doing research for a book on youth culture.”
“And you’re going to write about vampire cults?”
“That is correct.”
“Hmm – almost believable, but not quite.”
Cullen folded his arms – this was becoming annoying,
“Very well, I’m a true vampire and I’m looking for a lost love from two centuries ago.”
Sirocco stood up,
“Okaay – this conversation just got major league weird. I’m sorry pal, I don’t mind Goth, but there’s such a thing as taking something too seriously.”
She began to walk away. Cullen closed his eyes and reached for her motor control – there it was. He turned her around and with difficulty made her return to the table and sit down.
Sirocco slapped him and hissed,
“Don’t you ever do that again. My God - it was like being violated.”
He stared at Sirocco, dumbfounded. The slap shouldn’t have been possible. Her resistance to his mind control shouldn’t have been possible. There was an explanation, a very improbable one, but Cullen needed to know. He spoke quietly,
“I apologise, Sirocco. Will you still help me?”
She glared at him for a moment then muttered,
“I must be going daffy in my old age but all right, where do you want me to start? No, hang on, first of all, how did you do that mind thingy?”
Hands wide he said simply,
“I told you, I’m a true vampire.”
Sirocco sat back in her seat and nodded slowly,
“Well, well, how bloody ironic. The Disciples of Tasmin as they call themselves all claim to know vampire secrets and yackity yak and so on. Yet I’m the one who meets the real deal.”
She studied him for a moment then asked,
“Are you okay? If I thought it was possible, I’d swear you’d gone even paler.”
“What did you call them?”
“Disciples of Tasmin – why?”
“Tasmin is the name of the woman I’m seeking.”
“Yeah? It’s my middle name as well.”
Cullen whispered,
“Is it a name passed down in your family?”
“S’right, my great, great oh I dunno several greats grandma ago was called Tasmin Proctor.”
The vampire gazed at his fingertips,
“Then it happened. It really happened.”
“What really happened?”
“Tasmin gave birth, yet she was an undead. I converted her, I made love to her. But fathering a child was supposed to be impossible.”
“But apparently it happened.” Sirocco threw back her head and laughed,
“My God, I’m talking to one of my ancestors. Just a sec, if you’re still alive, sorry, still here. Are you saying that Tasmin is still around as well?”
“Just so.”
“Oh no, oh bloody hell. My cousin is called Tasmin Proctor, she queens it over that lot. She’s over two hundred years old?”
Cullen smiled,
“Taz liked to be in charge.”
“Sounds like my cuz all right. I’ll be damned.”
Sirocco stood,
“C’mon gramps, it’s time to finish the story with a happy ending eh? Let’s go and meet Tasmin Proctor.”
“Sirocco?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t call me gramps.”
------
In five hundred years time, most of us will be forgotten dust. But Hitler will still be remembered, God loves irony.
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Casebook Of The Vampire Annica - The Locked Room Affair
