The Bloody Red Baron: 1918

be all of us. A consensus. You're becoming like the worst of them. This isn't a game for a few mighty knights and a million expendable pawns. This is about huge numbers of people, vampire and warm.'

'You're editorialising, Miss Mouse.'

She was angry. 'I'm trying to save you from a great misapprehension. Probably from madness and true death. You've been through something very like hell and have focused the blame on one young Hun, when you should blame the old men on both sides who have slaughtered millions because it was easier than living. The getting and keeping of power for a tiny minority in all countries has killed us all, is killing us all.'

'You sound like a Bolshevik.'

'If that's what it takes. I've been a Revolutionist, as has Charles.'

'I don't see what this has to do with me.'

'That's just it. It has to do with everyone. You see yourself apart from us all.'

There was a quiet, angry pause. Kate was flushed. Edwin, whom she had almost reached, retreated into the armour growing around his skull.

'Is this leading anywhere important, Beauregard? I have an offensive patrol to fly.'

After deliberation, Charles - older now than his years, slower and sadder - said, 'I believe you have returned to active duty too soon after your injuries.'

'I'm fit. I'm better than fit.'

Edwin did a deep knee-bend and sprang. He leaped twenty feet, grasping a cross-beam. His boots dangled above their heads. This was the sort of showing-off Kate expected from callous new-borns. The ones who wanted to distance themselves from the warm. The ones who wanted the living penned as cattle, who felt vampirism made them Darwinian aristocrats, princes of the earth. The monsters. Edwin dropped like a cat and stood straight and cool, boyishly proud of his feat.

'In the first stages, it's like a drug,' Kate explained to Charles. 'There's a euphoria. Over-confidence.'

'She's wrong, Beauregard. I have been careful. I have made of myself a weapon.'

Charles was tempted to believe him, Kate knew. It would suit the purposes of the Diogenes Club to have this ruthless, agile creature on the books. But Charles was too good a man not to understand.

I can't risk you, my boy. Kate has lived with her condition for thirty years. I have to listen to her.'

'But it's so silly,' Edwin said, turning away. His wide smile was almost hysterical. 'I can do so much. We have to destroy JG1. We have to persuade the Boche to stop making those creatures.'

Kate's ears pricked up. Making those creatures?

'You see my point. You are losing caution. You just told me something you shouldn't have.'

Edwin's eyes rolled, in irritation.

'Why are we having this argument? We want the same things, don't we?'

Charles was thinking. 'Kate, I want your word that you won't write anything about JG1 without clearing it with me first. Under DORA, you could be imperilled.'

She was on a hook now. 'Very well, but what is the story?'

'They're shape-shifters,' he said. 'Richthofen and his battle comrades. They don't fly aircraft. They grow wings.'

'Good lord!'

'They're Dracula's get. By proxy. His blood has made monsters of them.'

It was Kate's turn to keep secrets. She understood the import of Mata Hari's confession.

Edwin did not apologise for letting the wildcat out of the bag.

'I shall recommend you be relieved of your duties, Edwin. You need more doctoring,' Charles said.

Edwin did not protest.

'He is thinking of your interests, Edwin.'

He looked at her and kept his thoughts to himself.

'Very impressive,' she said. 'It took me years to master that trick.'

'Your face still gives you away. You blush like litmus paper.'

That was almost the old Edwin.

'I still have confidence in you,' Charles said. 'You'll be one of our best. When you've recovered from this taint.'

They left him in the shed. As Kate helped Charles out into the open, Edwin went to confer with Jiggs, casually poking about in a Camel's engine, debating mechanical arcana.

She worried that Edwin had not argued his corner as fiercely as she would expect. Vampire blood was stubborn stuff.

Especially hers. Perhaps the strain was growing weak?

In the sun, Charles cringed like a vampire. She hoped she had not made an invalid of him.

'Let me turn you, Charles. It's the least I can do.'

He shook his head. 'Not now, Kate.'

'You're not like Edwin. You have the character, the backbone. You could be one of us and not go mad. Unless people like us are vampires, the monsters will win.'

'This is dizzying, Kate. You argue your blood is poison, then you try to get me to drink.'

'You are like Edwin. Your mind is made up beyond reason and you'll stick by it until death.'

'Pot, kettle, black.'

Each word was an effort.

'Idjits, the lot of you.'

'The warm?'

'Men.'

Charles laughed.

They were outside the farmhouse. Charles pushed the door open with his stick and allowed Kate to step in. He followed.

Captain Allard, wearing a face-shading hat, sat at a desk, looking over papers. In an armchair nearby was a fish-eyed grey-suited civilian. With a razor chill, Kate recognised Mr Caleb Croft.

'You'll have to take Winthrop off the roster, Captain Allard,' Charles said. 'He's not right yet.'

Allard looked sideways, to Croft.

'Diogenes will find you another bright boy.'

Croft swivelled his eyes from side to side, an implicit headshake.

'We can't spare Winthrop, Mr Beauregard.'

Charles was startled by the refusal. He was on the point of blustering.

'It's too dangerous, Croft. The lad's a peril to himself and those who serve with him.'

Croft said nothing. His skin was lizardy. Brutality boiled off him like steam.

'This is too important to take the risk.'

A contest of wills took place. Croft exuded a damp, invisible cloud. He could sap the lives of others by breathing in. He was late eighteenth century. It was whispered he was once hanged. He wore high collars to hide the rope-burn. Now he was the iron instrument of Lord Ruthven's law.

'I fear I have sad news, Mr Beauregard,' said Croft, each syllable a hollow croak. 'Mycroft Holmes is dead. Your Ruling Cabal is inquorate.'

Charles was stricken. Mycroft had been his sponsor in the Diogenes Club.

'As a consequence, your operations here are suspended.'

Croft produced a document from his inside breast pocket.

'I have the Prime Minister's authority to take over. You have earned leave.'

Charles's face was as grey as Croft's coat. His heartbeat faltered. Kate had a stab of concern for his health.

'At least listen to me about Winthrop,' he pleaded.

'He is a valuable man. Captain Allard would find it difficult to run this show without him. Your concern is noted but the Lieutenant will remain on active service.'

'His promotion is coming through,' Allard said.

'On your recommendation, I understand,' Croft said.

Charles was shattered. Kate did not know whether to step in and hold him up lest he fall. No. He would not