Page 48 of Box of Frogs
Another car drew up on our left, also slowing as it met the traffic. As soon as it was level, the person inside honked their horn. The window scrolled down and a head popped out. ‘Stacey! I love you!’
Julie opened the passenger window using a button on her side. ‘I love you too!’ she shrieked. Then the traffic moved and we pulled away.
‘You’re nuts,’ I said, shaking my head like a disapproving schoolteacher.
‘The truth is that I drive like this so that any hunters following me are unlikely to keep up.’ She frowned. ‘Although they always manage to find me sooner or later.’
‘Your personalised number plate might have something to do with that,’ I grunted. ‘Along with the fact that you don’t hide your identity and people scream at you whenever they spot you.’
‘Those people also help keep me safe,’ she reminded me. ‘Even if the hunters catch up to me, they wouldn’t dare hurt me when my fans are around.’
‘So you keep saying.’ Judging by the rabid look on the driver’s face when he’d stuck his head out of the window, I wasn’t quite so sure.
Fortunately, once we pulled off the motorway onto a quiet country lane on the outskirts of the city, Julie did slow down somewhat. We continued for another couple of miles, passing a few fields of sheep, until she veered off into a driveway leading up to a grand old country house.
‘Am I supposed to come in with you?’ I enquired when thankfully we parked and I was able to escape the confines of the car. ‘Or should I loiter out here and look dangerous?’
‘We’re perfectly safe, darling. You’re free to come inside with me or freeze your tits off out here. It’s your choice.’
She had a point; now the sun was down, it was rather cold. ‘I’ll come in,’ I murmured.
Julie beamed. ‘Excellent. I can’t wait to show you off!’ She strolled away, pushing open the door and entering without so much as a knock.
I followed her indoors, marvelling at the impressive interior. It might have been an old building but it oozed charm. Dried lavender lay artfully in pretty bowls on the sideboard and the rustic oak floorboards gave the place a homely feel. Whoever Julie’s friends were, I liked them already.
At the end of the hallway, hanging over a small table, was a large painting. The scene it depicted wasn’t anything extraordinary: a small waterfall cascading down a rocky hill, with verdant hills in the background. It spoke of little more than a fantastical pastoral imagination. Glancing at it, however, made my chest ache strangely. I rubbed at the spot. It was less painful and more … hollow.
‘Mag Mell,’ I whispered. Finally I understood the sense of loss and abject homesickness that I’d been told about. I examined the painting more closely. Had a Fey painted this? Was it the home I couldn’t remember?
‘Madrona?’ Julie asked. ‘Is everything alright?’
I pressed the base of my palms to my temples. ‘I might be remembering something. The painting…’ My voice trailed off as my hungry eyes took in every detail.
‘You know this place?’ She looked at the painting.
‘I think it’s the atmosphere of the painting rather than the painting itself,’ I murmured.
She smiled. ‘It makes sense. You’re a creative at heart. Now come on. Let’s party!’
My brow creased as I dragged my eyes away from the picture. ‘I thought you said this was tea and scones?’
Her mouth curved into a wicked smile. ‘I did, didn’t I? There might be scones. And Alice knows how to make the best Long Island Iced Tea this side of the Atlantic.’ She turned to her right and opened a door. ‘Cooeeee! It’s me!’
There was a loud, delighted chorus of welcomes. I walked in, remaining close to Julie’s heels. You never knew when danger was around.
Ten minutes later, it was clear that the only danger was that I might slit my wrists through boredom. Julie’s friends were nice enough but you can only listen to tales from the frontline of make-up artistry and waxing before your eyes start to glaze over. Spotting a crumpled packet of cigarettes, I begged one from the overly-coiffured man they belonged to and headed outside. The male body I’d glamoured myself into might not have enjoyed his morning cigarette but perhaps this one would be better. It couldn’t be any worse than what was back inside. Yeah, I thought morosely, it looked like I was as much of a bitch as Morgan had suggested I was.
I lit the cigarette and inhaled. The taste wasn’t any nicer and the same light-headed sensation overtook me but I was determined to finish it, if only to delay having to go inside. The last thing I wanted was to open my big mouth and offend someone. Normally I wouldn’t care but I didn’t want to lumber Julie with fallout from my lack of thoughtfulness.
I gazed at the trees then, deciding that the view wasn’t providing me with any more entertainment than Julie and her friends, ambled round to the back of her car. Perhaps I could kick the dents out and save a trip to the garage.
I crouched down, attempting to pull on the bumper and straighten it out. The metal sighed but didn’t look any different. Cursing, I hunkered down further in a bid to curl my fingertips underneath and gain a better purchase. It was that action that allowed me to spot the slim grey box attached to the undercarriage.
There was nothing in my pathetic brain that suggested I knew much about cars but I was pretty certain that the box did not belong there. Scooting my body underneath, and with my heart in my mouth, I examined it more closely.
There were no visible wires and no blinking lights or giveaway countdown timers. It was probably too small to be a bomb; when I pulled it gently away from the car, it fitted too neatly into the palm of my hand.
Pushing myself out, I used my fingernails to dig into the hard plastic edge and open the box. Inside was a small, neat green motherboard. With a sinking sensation, I realised what it was: Julie’s vampire hunters kept on finding her not because of her celebrity status or her flashy car; their methods were far more prosaic – and far more sinister.
