Chapter 37.
Across the city Stevens was also feeling the absence of sleep. His solution though was the bottle of whiskey that had been opened earlier. “Why waste good whiskey?” he thought, as he lay stretched out on the sofa bed. He dangled the talisman in front of his face and puzzled over what could have spooked her so much about a silly trinket like this. He studied every detail on it, the strange inscriptions but couldn’t make sense of it. He contemplated calling her, but decided it probably wasn’t such a good idea in the end. Best leaving that kind of thing until the cold light of day when things usually look clearer. Instead, he tossed the talisman back underneath the pillow.
Stevens tried to remember the day his father gave it to him; he remembered his father telling him it was an important family heirloom and that someday he would be called to protect it. But he had been very young at the time and the details were hazy. It was the day his father died, was murdered, and the trauma of losing his father had jumbled the events too much. He remembered his father telling him stories as a child about vampires, but that was all he had assumed them to be, mere stories. Although, the events that had happened since his return to the city and the incident with Rebecca were once again calling into question his whole belief structure. If he allowed himself to believe in it all, things would seem clearer, a little more frightening but the jigsaw puzzle that was his life would start to fall into place a little better. He wondered just where Rebecca fitted into all of it. Was she some part to the bigger picture?
He lay awake mulling over the details of the last twenty something years of his life. At least as far back as he could remember. He tried to recall all the things that his father had told him. But it was too fuzzy in his mind. The empty bottle of whiskey lying on the floor may have contributed to the sensation. Something inside told him that his father had left some clues for him, in the event of his death. If it had really been that important surely his father would have taken necessary steps to provide information. He was sure his sister would have kept some of his things. She was never very good at throwing junk away. The entire garage was a shrine to her ability to hoard objects of little worth or value. And that was the best place to start looking. He knew his impulsive nature would never allow him to wait until the morning to start poking around. No, he was too restless for that he would have to make a start now.
He dragged his groggy body up off the small sofa bed and pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that were lying on the floor and had passed the sniff test. Then slipping on a pair of trainers he made his way downstairs to the garage to have a snoop around. He’d have to be quiet though, it wouldn’t be good if next door thought he was a burglar and telephoned the police. How embarrassing that would be.
The garage was jammed packed with junk that had accumulated over the years. There were boxes filled with baby clothes, toys, Christmas decorations that were a little worse for wear, books from his sister Julia’s college days, and old winter coats that surely went out with the arc. But in the very back of the garage, up on a shelf there was a box labelled ‘Dad’s Stuff’ in thick black marker. He lifted it down, nervous as to what it might contain. There was every chance that its contents were merely old tax receipts and payslips or it might have contained some incredible revelation about the universe. He didn’t want to open the box in the garage. There was no room to sit down if he needed it. He lifted the box and made his way back upstairs. It might be better to have a bottle of whiskey on standby just in case.
Upstairs he cleared a space from the rubbish on top of the coffee table and sat the box down. He pulled a pocketknife from a drawer in the kitchen and sliced through the tape on the outside of the box that had kept it sealed for twenty years. Pulling open the top of the box he peered inside. There were a lot of documents, and just as he had suspected, tax receipts and payslips, insurance documents and buried underneath it all was a letter addressed to him. He felt a strange surge of emotion inside, a mixture of anticipation, fear, sadness and relief. He tore the envelope open and pulled the letter out. Then sat down on the sofa bed to read the letter.
“Dear Son,
If you are reading this letter, I’m either dead or you’ve been snooping in matters that don’t concern you. But let’s assume for the time being that I’m not with you. I’m sure there are a lot of unanswered questions you have at the moment, I’m not sure if I can answer them all in this letter. Robert, the stories I told you about vampires when you were a child, they weren’t just stories. They were all true. At the moment I get the feeling one of them has found out who I am and I think she has my name down for a date with Death.
Our family line goes back almost two thousand years. We come from a long line of protectors. Pay attention to what I am about to tell you, it is information you will need if you are to carry on the family tradition. I hope you still have the talisman I gave you. It is an important artefact and you will need it, you will need to guard it with your life.
We, or rather you have a duty to God to protect that talisman. It was forged in heaven and passed onto our ancestors to use against a powerful creature. If it is broken, she will be released into this world as herself and there will be no stopping her. You must not let it fall into the hands of any vampire. If you need anything there is a man who may be able to help you, my partner in the force. I don’t know if he will still be there, but you could give him a try. He may be able to explain things a little better than I have. His name is Paul Williams.
I hope that you will fulfil this family’s promise and carry on the line. We are the only thing that stands between them and her and she must not be allowed to awaken. Lillith must not be allowed to walk this earth again. I only wish I had been able to tell all this to you in person. Good Luck,
A. Stevens”
Stevens couldn’t believe that he was now working with his father’s old partner. He found it hard to believe it was the same man as all those years ago. Why hadn’t Detective Williams mentioned it before? He had always been told how much he looked like his father; didn’t Williams recognise him?
He looked across at the red-lit clock on the table beside the sofa bed. It was getting close to five in the morning. His mind was racing. The letter had raised more questions than he’d had to begin with. There were bigger problems now than what if God existed. He thought back to his first meeting with his new partner, and the new revelation would explain why he had been so nice to him. Although there was nothing more he could do. He would have to leave all his unanswered questions until a more sociable hour. He stripped the jeans off and crawled under the covers. And it wasn’t long after his head hit the pillow that he was fast asleep.