Vampire Blood Trilogy

“Maybe the flute is magic,” I said, “or else Mr Crepsley knows how to charm spiders, the way Indians can charm snakes.”

“But you said Mr Tall controlled the spider as well,” Alan said, “when Mr Crepsley had Madam Octa in his mouth.”

“Oh. Yes. I forgot,” I said. “Well, I guess that means they must have used magic flutes.”

“They didn’t use magic flutes,” Steve said. He had been quiet most of the day, saying less than me about the show, but Steve never could resist hammering someone with facts.

“So what did they use?” I asked.

“Telepathy,” Steve answered.

“Is that something to do with telephones?” Alan asked.

Steve smiled, and Tommy and me laughed (although I wasn’t entirely sure what “telepathy” meant, and I bet Tommy wasn’t either). “Moron!” Tommy chuckled, and punched Alan playfully.

“Go on, Steve,” I said, “tell him what it means.”

“Telepathy is when you can read somebody else’s mind,” Steve explained, “or send them thoughts without speaking. That’s how they controlled the spider, with their minds.”

“So what’s with the flutes?” I asked.

“Either they’re just for show,” Steve said, “or, more likely, you need them to attract her attention.”

“You mean anyone could control her?” Tommy asked.

“Anyone with a brain, yes,” Steve said. “Which counts you out, Alan,” he added, but smiled to show he didn’t mean it.

“You wouldn’t need magic flutes or special training or anything?” Tommy asked.

“I wouldn’t think so,” Steve answered.

The talk moved on to something else after that – football, I think – but I wasn’t listening. Because all of a sudden there was a new thought running through my mind, setting my brain on fire with ideas. I forgot about Steve and vampires and everything.

“You mean anyone could control her?”

“Anyone with a brain, yes.”

“You wouldn’t need magic flutes or special training or anything?”

“I wouldn’t imagine so.”

Tommy’s and Steve’s words kept bouncing through my mind, over and over, like a stuck CD.

Anyone could control her. That anyone could be me. If I could get my hands on Madam Octa and communicate with her, she could be my pet and I could control her and …

No. It was foolish. Maybe I could control her, but I would never own her. She was Mr Crepsley’s and there was no way in the world that he would part with her, not for money or jewels or..

The answer hit me in a flash. A way to get her off him. A way to make her mine. Blackmail! If I threatened the vampire – I could say I’d set the police onto him – he’d have to let me keep her.

But the thought of going face to face with Mr Crepsley terrified me. I knew I couldn’t do it. That left just one other option: I’d have to steal her!

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#ulink_c08ad5d4-cf4e-5360-8b0a-3ceda472119b)

EARLY MORNING would be the best time to steal the spider. Having performed so late into the night, most members of the Cirque Du Freak would probably sleep in until eight or nine. I’d sneak into camp, find Madam Octa, grab her and run. If that wasn’t possible – if the camp was active – I’d simply return home and forget about it.

The difficult part was picking a day. Wednesday was ideal: the last show would have played the night before, so the circus would in all likelihood have pulled out before midday and moved on to its next venue before the vampire could awake and discover the theft. But what if they left town directly after the show, in the middle of the night? Then I’d miss my big chance.

It had to be tomorrow – Tuesday. That meant Mr Crepsley would have the whole of Tuesday night to search for his spider – for me – but that was a risk I’d just have to take.

I went to bed a bit earlier than usual. I was tired and ready to fall asleep, but was so excited, I thought I wouldn’t be able to. I kissed Mum goodnight and shook Dad’s hand. They thought I was trying to win my pocket money back, but it was in case something happened to me at the theatre and I never saw them again.

I have a radio which is also an alarm clock, and I set the alarm to five o’clock in the morning, then stuck my headphones on and plugged them into the radio. That way, I could wake up nice and early without waking anyone else.

I fell asleep quicker than I expected and slept straight through till morning. If I had any dreams, I can’t remember them.

Next thing I knew, the alarm was sounding. I groaned, turned over, then sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes. I wasn’t sure where I was for a few seconds, or why I was awake so early. Then I remembered the spider and the plan, and grinned happily.

The grin didn’t last long, because I realised the alarm wasn’t coming through my headphones. I must have rolled over in my sleep and pulled the cord out! I leapt across my bed and slammed the alarm off, then sat in the early morning darkness, heart pounding, listening for noises.

When I was sure my parents were still asleep, I slid out of bed and got dressed as quietly as I could. I went to the toilet and was about to flush when I thought of the noise it would make. I yanked my hand away from the lever and wiped the sweat from my brow. They would surely have heard that! A narrow escape. I’d have to be more careful when I got to the theatre.

I slipped downstairs and let myself out. The sun was on its way up and it looked like it would be a bright day.

I walked quickly and sang songs to pep me up. I was a bundle of nerves and almost turned back a dozen times. Once I actually did turn and start walking home, but then I remembered the way the spider had hung from Mr Crepsley’s jaws, and the tricks she had performed, and swung around again.

I can’t explain why Madam Octa meant so much to me, or why I was placing my life in such peril to have her. Looking back, I’m no longer sure what drove me on. It was simply a dreadful need I couldn’t ignore.

The crumbling old building looked even creepier by day. I could see cracks running down the front, holes nibbled by rats and mice, spider webs in the windows. I shivered and hurried round to the rear. It was deserted. Empty old houses, junk yards, scrap heaps. There would be people moving about later in the day, but right then it looked like a ghost town. I didn’t even see a cat or a dog.

As I’d thought, there were plenty of ways to get into the theatre. There were two doors and loads of windows to choose from.

Several cars and vans were parked outside the building. I didn’t spot any signs or pictures on them, but I was sure they belonged to the Cirque Du Freak. It suddenly struck me that the freaks most probably slept in the vans. If Mr Crepsley had a home in one of them, my plan was sunk.

I snuck into the theatre, which felt even colder than it had been on Saturday night, and tiptoed down a long corridor, then another, then another! It was like a maze back here and I started worrying about finding my way out. Maybe I should go back and bring a ball of string, so I could mark my way and—

No! It was too late for that. If I left, I’d never have the guts to return. I’d just have to remember my steps as best I could and say a little prayer when it came time to leave.

I saw no sign of any freaks, and began to think I was on a fool’s errand, that they were all in the vans or in nearby hotels. I’d been searching for twenty minutes and my legs felt heavy after so much walking. Maybe I should quit and forget the crazy plan.

I was about to give up when I found a set of stairs leading down to a cellar. I paused at the top for ages, biting my lips, wondering if I should go down. I’d seen enough horror films to know this was the most likely spot for a vampire, but I’d also seen loads where the hero walked down to a similar cellar, only to be attacked, murdered and chopped up into little pieces!

Finally I took a deep breath and started down. My shoes were making too much noise, so I eased them off and padded along in just my socks. I picked up loads of splinters, but was so nervous, I didn’t feel the pain.

There was a huge cage near the bottom of the stairs. I edged over to it and looked through the bars. The Wolf Man was inside, lying on his back, asleep and snoring. He twitched and moaned as I watched. I jumped back from the cage. If he woke, his howls would bring the whole freak show down on me in seconds flat!

As I was stumbling backwards, my foot hit something soft and slimy. I turned my head slowly and saw I was standing over the snake-boy! He was stretched out on the floor, his snake wrapped around him, and his eyes were wide open!

I don’t know how I managed not to scream or faint, but somehow I kept quiet and stayed on my feet, and that saved me. Because, even though the snake-boy’s eyes were open, he was fast asleep. I knew by the way he was breathing: deeply, heavily, in and out.