"Nope. We don't show up on film."
His eyes narrow, and he cocks his head at a slight angle. "Another one of those fake myth things again, right?"
"Right." For someone who works in a vampire-friendly bar, he doesn't know much about how the world works. Maybe he's new here. New and as green as freshly-mown grass. "Now here's the thing. I'm looking for the..." It's not nerves which make me pause, but the realisation of what I'm about to say. "I'm looking for the one who made me."
"Your sire?"
My shoulders slump. Maybe I should introduce Scott to Jason back at the hotel. They seem of a type. "Yes, my sire, if you want to call him that. Only..."
"Only...?"
I'm about to say, "Only he doesn't know I exist," but it would take too long to explain to this piece of work how one could create another vampire without knowing. I'd have to go into the reluctance I felt, the violence of the situation, the decades of deceit, my reasons for suddenly showing up now out of the blue, reasons of which even I'm not entirely sure. So I opt for linguistic chicanery instead, otherwise known as lying. "He doesn't know I'm here. It's a surprise." Okay, not quite lying. That part was true. Adam doesn't know I'm here.
Yet.
"Trip down memory lane, you mean?"
"You could say that."
"Fangs for the memories and all that." Again, Scott catches my eye before clearing his throat.
The throat I would quite happily tear out, but that sort of thing is frowned upon here. They have a sign on the wall barring necking, for goodness' sake. "Um, okay. I'll shut up now."
"Wise choice."
"Apart from asking if this guy's got a name."
"Ad---Actually, I'm not even sure if he's still going under the same name these days." The thought's just occurred to me, and my long-dead heart sinks. No, no, it's a stupid idea. If Adam used an alias while he was on the prowl, surely he'd have mentioned it to Will during one of their occasional communiqués? Unless said alias was used for nefarious purposes, say, covering up a violent underbelly to an outwardly respectable lifestyle?
Calm down, Stephenson. Calm down. You're worrying over nothing. His name's Adam. Always has been, always will be.
"Never mind." I shake my head, as if doing so will rid my mind of all sorts of worries. "When I knew him, he went by Adam Locke."
"Adam Locke...Adam Locke..."
Scott frowns, evidently searching his memory banks.
Well, that's something. He's trying to help.
And I know Adam's a regular here; Will said so, a n d he got it straight from the horse's fanged mouth.
"Describe him to me?"
"Like I said, it's been a while since we met. Not from this part of the world, so his accent won't fit. Mind you, he might have grown into something else by now. From London, originally. Dark hair, kept it pretty short back then, had..." I can feel myself sinking back into the past and automatically beat myself up about it emotionally.
But this is essential. I need to think about him. "He had the most piercing blue eyes."
"Oh, you mean Padlock?" Enlightenment spreads across Scott's face like---and I hate myself for this simile---like a rising sun. Not that I can remember what that looks like in real life; television has been my only window on the world in that regard for many a long year.
And pleasure at getting somewhere has another, instant effect on me.
I want to vomit.
"Padlock?" I echo. "Is that some sort of...?"
"Nickname, yeah. We, the bar staff, that is, started calling him Padlock 'cause he pads about. You can't hear him coming; he seems to glide, you know?"
I do know. I still remember.
"And he can sneak up on you without you even knowing he's there. So there's that, and the fact his surname is---"
"Locke, yes." I nod, partly to pacify him, partly to hurry him along. "Very clever. So." I pause, wondering how to phrase this, eventually opting to just blurt it out. "You know him? He's a regular here?"
"He comes in a couple of nights a week."
I don't know whether my heart wants to sink or not. A couple of nights, so two. That's a two in seven chance of my seeing him tonight. If he's not here this evening, I'll probably turn tail and flee, like the coward I am. I'll be able to tell Will I at least tried, but if I can stay on the run for decades, so can he and Kieran. Besides which, if Adam's as determined to destroy anyone else's happiness as Will claims, the fact he and Kieran got away at all proves they, together, are more wily than Adam alone.
"It's funny," Scott says. "Padlock---" he catches the look on my face and clears his throat "---I mean, Adam never struck me as the type to make anyone. He doesn't seem particularly...you know---" a brief shrug "---aggressive."
I snort in derision, unsure of whether I want to call this man an idiot or simply laugh at him.
"You think someone has to be aggressive to make another vampire?" I could tell him he's closer to the truth than he knows, but...
"It doesn't strike me as a particular peaceful thing to do. Killing someone..." His eyes lose focus, and he wraps one hand round his neck, as if soothing a former injury.
"Ever been bitten?"
"Me? No." His hand drops, and focused again, he stares at me.
"Good. Word to the wise. Keep it that way. Now, if you'll excuse---"
"Well, how about that?" Scott's no longer looking at me; the target of his attentions is on the other side of the room, in the direction of the entryway.
Oh God. I'm not going to like this.
"Speak of the devil."
"Fuck. Are you telling me...?"
"He's here. Just this second, he walked in. Almost as if he knew you were gonna be here."
Adam Locke always was good at showing up when I least wanted to see him. My masochism brought me here, and I only have
