Double Your Money
Vivienne McCulloch
Vivienne McCulloch
| We like this story because: It reminds us that a vampire is not just for Christmas and that an imp on a broom is worth two on a brush, or is that er...what's that smell? |
| The man from DRIP closed his briefcase with a snap, gave Amy an impersonal smile and said; ‘Well Miss Archer, that’s all the information I need for now, thank you. We’ll be in touch.’ Amy saw him out of the shop door, closing it behind him against the December cold. The jangle of the bell brought footsteps down the back stairs. Rachel poked her head around the door, tea towel in hand, a smear of gravy across her face. She looked at Amy, raising her eyebrows in a question. ‘He didn’t seem very keen, Mum.’ Amy leaned over the counter. ‘I think it might take more than a few scorch marks around the back door to satisfy the Department for Really Interesting Phenomena.’ ‘They looked just like the marks on Quigley’s doors, and that was definitely a demon. I know it was forty years ago, but I remember it well. Quigley’s Hardware burned to the ground that night and there hasn’t been another demon in this town since.’ Rachel sniffed. ‘You can’t tell me these DRIP guys are all the experts they make themselves out to be. Most of them aren’t old enough.’ Rachel waved the striped tea towel like a flag in a gale, her fair curls dancing, pink face reddening. ‘Don’t worry Mum, something will come along very soon, I can feel it.’ Amy straightened her long body, flicking back her fringe. ‘You’ve got a feeling?’ Rachel brightened. ‘What, one of those feelings?’ ‘Maybe so, maybe so,’ said Amy with a grin. ‘Now, when’s dinner ready?’ ‘Oh my good God.’ Rachel disappeared back up the stairs to the flat over the shop. ‘Half-an- hour,’ came floating down moments later. Amy tidied the counter and prepared to close up the florist’s for the night. She had lied to her mother. She hadn’t felt her thumbs prick for a while and could see no prospect of any Really Interesting Phenomena walking through the door. Pity, they could do with the money. Not that DRIP paid out that much, but the media circus could be milked for every last drop if you had something good and knew how to handle it. A demon would be amazing. Rachel was right, there had been no demons sighted for decades. Bringing in that rarity would be better than a lottery win. Amy fingered the long silver chain that she wore under her tee shirt. Each link was a rune; read in sequence they formed a powerful demon-binding spell. And more chance of winning tonight’s jackpot, thought Amy. The current recession was hard on everyone. Flowers are one of those luxuries that are amongst the first to be crossed off the shopping list. Amy and Rachel were close to broke, surviving on slimmed-down weddings and austere funerals. Amy swept lily petals from the floor and wished for a good Christmas. A tentative tap on the glass of the shop door broke into her thoughts. A pale youth stood outside, looking awkward. ‘We’re still open,’ she called, walking back around the counter. Damn, she thought, I’ve just cashed up. The door stayed closed and still the youth stood outside. Amy groaned, went back to the door and opened it. A blast of cold air, damp and decay blew in. ‘Please come in.’ ‘Er...thank you,’ said the young man, knocking over an empty copper vase in a failed attempt to sweep his cloak around his shoulders with a flourish. Amy sighed. ‘What can I do for you tonight?’ ‘A dozen red roses, if you have them,’ he said, recovering his composure. ‘If-if that’s ok, of course,’ he added, losing it again. ‘Sure, why wouldn’t it be?’ ‘Not everyone round here will serve vampires.’ ‘Don’t see why not. Your money’s as good as anyone else’s.’ Amy wrapped the roses in fine tissue and cellophane. ‘Been a vampire for long?’ ‘Um, no, not really. Still finding my way around, I suppose.’ ‘These for your girlfriend?’ Amy pointed a long finger at the bouquet. ‘Hopefully, yes,’ said the newbie vampire. ‘I don’t suppose you....?’ He tried to turn on the glamour but the effect was marred both by lack of practice and by the tic that started up in his left eye. ‘No,’ said Amy, taking his money. ‘Wouldn’t work. I’m a white witch. Like my mother was. Of course, she’s retired now.’ ‘Oh, ok. Well, thanks anyway.’ He picked up his roses and glided erratically towards the door. Amy slid smoothly over the counter, drew two small pistols from the back of the leather belt holding up her jeans and fired them; one shot to the head, one to the heart. The vampire crumpled in the doorway and, in moments, was no more than dust. She retrieved the bullets from the floor and examined them before putting them in her cardigan pocket. Silver doesn’t come cheap. Then she picked up the roses and put them in a fresh vase. She called up the stairs, ‘It’s ok Mum, only a vampire.’ ‘Aw, I’m sorry darling.’ Rachel looked over the banister, spoon in hand, flour on face. ‘Never mind, I’ve just put the dumplings in, so don’t be long.’ ‘Right, I’m locking up now. I’m starving.’ Amy went, keys in hand, to the shop door. Vampires were ten a penny these days, she thought. The trouble was every other young girl wanted to be seduced by one, which meant that every other young man wanted to become one. What they couldn’t seem to grasp was that most of them ended up, not as vampires themselves, but as food for others. She picked up her broom, sweeping the dust into the street along with a handful of imps that had probably sneaked in behind the vampire. As with vampires, imps had become so commonplace that DRIP had stopped paying bounty on them and there was no media interest to speak of. ‘Go on, you little bugger.’ She gave the broom a sharp flick to dislodge an imp that was hanging on to the handle by his teeth. Heels clicking on the pavement caught her attention. She looked up with more than a passing interest because, for the first time in ages, her thumbs were pricking. Two men were walking towards her. Amy took a moment to quietly cast a little glamour over her. They were looking up and down the row of shops but hers was the only one still open. As they passed under the street light she realised that they were identical twins. Fair hair in spiky quiffs, green eyes and long dark coats; the two men crossed the narrow road and came to a synchronised halt in front of her. ‘Good evening gentlemen, may I help you at all?’ The twins looked at each other, then at Amy. ‘Oh I do hope so, don’t you Calvin?’ said the one on Amy’s left, turning to his twin. ‘Indeed I do, Alvin, I do.’ ‘We are looking for somewhere special to have dinner, aren’t we Calvin?’ ‘Yes we are, but everywhere seems to be shut, doesn’t it Alvin?’ ‘That’s right Calvin. Shut.’ ‘Unfortunate.’ ‘Very.’ The twins stepped closer to Amy. She couldn’t place their accent; Irish? Maybe American? She caught a faint whiff of sulphur and her thumbs felt like living pincushions. Don’t blow it girl, she thought. She simpered and looked up at them through her eyelashes. ‘No problem, I have the local directory inside. I’d be happy for you to come in and take a look.’ ‘Too kind, isn’t she Calvin?’ ‘Yes Alvin, too, too kind.’ They smiled in unison and accepted Amy’s gestured invitation to enter the shop. At that moment Rachel appeared at the foot of the back stairs. ‘Amy, I’m about to plate up,’ she called. ‘Oh my, who do we have here, Calvin?’ ‘Who indeed, Alvin, who indeed?’ ‘Gentlemen, my mother, Rachel.’ Amy’s voice was silky. ‘Delightful!’ said the twins, as one. ‘Mum,’ said Amy, looking straight into Rachel’s eyes, ‘they’re looking for somewhere to eat, so I’m just going to show them the directory.’ Now Rachel might have retired, but she wasn’t stupid. Without missing a beat, her smile widened and, with a coquettish wave of her tea towel she said; ‘Oh heavens above, please won’t you join us for dinner? It’s quite ready. It isn’t often we get company, especially gentlemen company.’ She shimmied a little against the door jamb. Please don’t overdo it Mum, thought Amy. The twins looked at each other. The heat was radiating off them now and the odour of sulphur was eye-watering. ‘What a very nice lady you are. Isn’t she Calvin?’ ‘Very nice Alvin, and so, so kind, don’t you agree?’ ‘Absolutely, Calvin. Without a doubt she is kindness personified.’ ‘Then won’t you please come upstairs and make yourselves comfortable?’ Rachel waved them over. Amy locked the door and put up the ‘Closed’ sign. The twins, practically drooling now, walked through to the back. A large pot of lilies wilted and died as they passed. No matter, thought Amy, the DRIP bounty for these two would wipe out their financial problems in one hit, never mind the rest. The demon twins followed Rachel up the stairs. As Amy went up behind them she carefully loosened the long silver chain around her neck. © Vivienne McCulloch All Rights Reserved Millionstories.net |
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