Vampire "Unseen" (Vampire "Untitled" Trilogy Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

is the English?”
    Mihai turned his face directly to Ciprian and for a few seconds made absolute contact with the world. “The English is a vampire. He drinks my blood. He is vampire but the lady tells me he is a good vampire and I must tell nobody.”
    “The lady told you to tell nobody?”
    Mihai made a very slow nod of the head.
    “Mihai, listen to me... This is very important. Do you know where I can find the English vampire?”
    Mihai made a another nod. “He drinks my blood.”

    ----- X -----

    He got the money. Ten thousand in cash. The alluring bank clerk Louisa was waving at him to say hello. He half waved back but was so desperate to avoid a repeat of yesterday’s sexual frustration that he practically ran from the bank to the underground station. He was stealing money and he felt the heat on his skin as he pulled off the crime. It was borrowed legitimately, but he would never pay it back; the theft had yet to happen, but he felt like a criminal and his hands trembled as he took the cash. Emotionally, it felt a far worse crime to knowingly defraud the bank than it did to murder Nealla and Raul.
    Now he needed a new home. He began by wandering North London’s more decrepit suburbs in search of a squat or derelict building and got lucky just north of King’s Cross. He stumbled onto a row of terraced homes with a fire damaged property at one end. It looked like a garage business of some kind, a mechanics yard had gone up in flames and spread to the house next door. The second house after that was damaged too but in a much better condition; from the street he could see nothing wrong with it other than the ground floor window being boarded up.
    As he walked the perimeter he felt it necessary to act calm and only peek from the corner of his eye. He knew it was stupid, but somehow his paranoia was keeping him in check, ensuring he didn’t look like a burglar casing buildings to break into.
    There was a tight alleyway leading to what he presumed were small private yards on the rear. The walls were seven feet high but could be climbed by jamming his feet in either side of the alley. He was right about the yards; each home had a small enclosure no more than ten feet square, space enough to store a bicycle or perhaps a dustbin. He dropped into the yard of the fire damaged home. The back door had been kicked in and led to the remnants of a kitchen. As a home it was unusable. Stairs led down to a basement that looked uninviting, another set of stairs led up ten feet and opened to the sky. The building was gutted by fire above the first floor and the structure was braced by scaffolding. The four walls were held in place by a skeleton of steel-work and braces. It looked like a child’s climbing frame with ladders fixed to the top.
    He noticed a detail.
    The fire had destroyed the roof of this building and spread into the roof of the next home. It looked as though he could access the second home through its roof. He climbed the ladders, feeling the height becoming exponentially more lethal with every rung. At the top there was an opportunity to reach out and grab the very top of the wall. It was perilous. In fact it was deadly. There was access to the roof of the second home but it would take a long reach and a leap of faith, made more difficult by wearing a backpack. There was no surviving a fall from this height.
    He took the chance, grabbed the brickwork and released himself from the ladder to hang off the wall almost fifty feet above a rubble heap.
    It was worth it. He could see a square hole in the floor that dropped into the top of the building. He pulled himself into the roof and walked carefully on charred beams, knowing they could give way at any moment. He lowered through the gap and dropped.
    “Jesus Christ, I’m doing this.” he gasped on landing. He stayed in a crouch position, listening carefully. Frozen in place. Scared. Worried that he wasn’t alone in the building.
    It was bold. Scary. He was