Across the harbour, protected from the rising sun in his Ford Mondeo, Myles West watched Paul burning. The dark tint on the glass would be too much for a human, but an amazing necessity for the Vampire inside. He leans forward and rests his arms on the steering wheel, and watches in awe. He is half the age of Paul, a mere one hundred and fifty years old. But he had heard of the forthcoming suicide, the Vampire Council, Ireland, had issued orders that none of their kind could watch the action.

But Myles had had enough, unlike most, he rejected the theory that Vampires are higher in the food chain than Human’s. He feeds on the blood of humanity, but does not kill. He has bourn the brunt of anger from other Vamps. Turn of mind brought through time. Myles, once a priest, once a man of God, spent to long in the night, passing through the Lenanne, Galway. He crossed the path of what he believed to be a groping couple, his stanch beliefs and the time of Irish history, he decided to speak to this couple about their moral deviancy. His approach was with the Lord God on his side, but the showing of fangs and speed of her attack made the Lord pick up her dress and run into the high hills.

Myles woke a time later, buried in his own Parish’s graveyard. He managed to crawl his way through the dirt, feeling a burning hunger inside him, no, not a hunger, it was more a thirst.

It was night when he crawled from the muck, his best suit ruined, and the cross that his proud mother gave him, hanging around his neck, it didn’t take long for the oxygen in the air to make the crucifix burn through his body. The silver burnt into his skin. Still today, its there, reminding him.

Myles had turned into mans hunter at first, a short period of time, lasting no more than sixty to seventy years. Stalking the land, preying on the weary traveller, or the carriage driver that decided to shorten his trip. It would be funny to some, that the trip that was actually made shorter was his own wandering through life.

But now, Myles had turned his back on tradition, at least the tradition of the Vampires.

Now, now he took more of an interest in his previous existence, though unable to enter the house of God, any God. He now helped those, those who cannot gain the assistance of normal passages of law. A call had come through on his cell phone about an hour ago, the caller insisting that the matter to her hand was urgent, but still he could not miss Paul’s last moments. As he planned to follow, soon.

Advertising for Myles’ services was done via the internet, a young man, human, believed in the nobility of Vampires, and opened himself up to them. He created a Web site, known as the Flaming Horse Studio’s. The Site was for up and coming writers to unleash their passion on the world. Jay Baron, a.k.a. The Baron, was interested in writings from the darker side of life, and Myles, who happened on the site by accident, found the stories to be a refreshing change from the dribble that publishing houses decided to throw at the public. One night, while chatting on the ICQ service, Myles told The Baron about his life, and seeing through the story for reality, The Baron was the only living human to know the true identity of Myles. The Baron lived in Canada, the Vampire in Ireland. Though a great distance lay between them, Myles liked the arrangement.

The Baron would seek people out there, people in need, problems that going through the usual channels would not rectify. They would have to be within Ireland, as the one thing that Myles kept of his vampire heritage was his need of home soil. Clients for this service would be many. The barriers of this small Country would attain many.

Myles would read the Email, giving a accurate description of the situation the client was in, he would then respond to the Email, giving a positive, or in most cases a negative answer. Myles chose carefully, making sure that it was not a trivial matter masked in a sea of vales. Then there were the cases, he’d throw away, knowing that the soul of the client only wanted a missing person found, so that they could do more damage to them.

Whatever fee the client could afford, if any, would be sent to The Baron, to aid the writers of his site, would poured their unrivalled talent into their work.

Most of the time, the clients never could pay.

Myles was not interested, the Council gave him enough money a year for his knowledge of the Church, his knowing of the Hunters that the Vatican trained to rid the world of their kind. The Baron, he was in this for the confirmation of his beliefs that Vampires do exist. He can never understand why no one else shares this thought, or that those who do, are subject to harassment for their beliefs.

But this message that had come through on his cell, it was not from The Baron, it was from the Council, they who had never needed his services before, need him now.

He drove through Dublin, his tinted windows managed to keep the part of the sun that was harmful to him away. Part of him wanted to reason with the powers that guided the world, that if he did not drink from humanity without taking a life, then a deal should be struck, that he could at least walk in the light. Thoughts like this were harmful, and the Council would not think them funny.

The usual garden variety case for Myles would be a parent seeking a child that was in a gang situation. The Garda, Irish police, would not be to interested in the child’s return, but only seeking to gain information from the worried parent about crimes that the gang committed that she would know about. Sometimes a bribe would be sought, for even the most minimal effort of seeking the child.

Myles would find the gang, isolate the one he had come for, and take them, if any of the gang members challenged him, they would meet with an uncomfortable end. Though he would never drink from them. The runaway would be brought someplace quiet before being taken home, and given a scare by Myles, it usually only took one swift shot of his vampire features, and a threat, that they would be hunted down and devoured by him, and his kind. Runaway would run home, tail between their legs, firmly.

There was no chance that the council would be calling Myles in unless it was really serious, his attitude regarding the feeding process was not shared by any of the council members, and if any of them even dreamt about it being the way to go, they would be put off the council to say the least. Never would Myles be asked to sit on the council, and never would he mind about it. He knew that the council was very unhappy about Paul leaving, and in such a public manner. But they called him in for something big, otherwise, they would just have used some new born, some three day vampire that was eager to please them. The council, they were just egomaniacs at heart, or heartless, depending on your point of view.

The chambers that the Council kept were not what you would think. The room is so bright, florescent light coming from all around, each piece of furniture clinging to its white paint, or fabric, clinging as it believed that the darkness of its users would tear it away from them. Myles had to wait. It was afternoon when he arrived at the building, outside the city. It was completely shut off from the light of the sun, but still, the Council members would never rise from their places of rest until sun down. Some had coffins, of those, some modern, some classic. Most had taken a room of the basement, and rested in surroundings that rock stars would love to destroy. Myles had to undergo a number of security checks, from pat downs to metal detectors.

The security was not unwarranted. Vampires have been hunted since their moment on earth. Humanity marked them evil, and began their hunt of the darkness. Humans created the need for Vampires, the need to have something they could hold up before God, to claim, ‘Yes Lord, we have done evil things, but we are not the most vile of your creations.’ And God? He took notice, and the hunt began. You can wonder why the big powerful dude didn’t take care of it himself, surely he had the power. It seems that the upstairs man believed the control of vampires was well within Mans power. Once again, another bad call from the Dude. The Hunters, they are as much underground as the Vampires are now. No one would believe them today, and those that do come forward, they aren’t true hunters, they just look for the publicity of day time TV.

Once in a time, a real Hunter would come along, and realise that the only way to kill all the Vampires would be to remove the councils. Otherwise there is too much organisation, too much protection, from those that try to uphold law and order.

The Irish Council had been attacked, invaded, and held to investigation. Their obvious need for secrecy had drawn particular attention to them during the Conflict in the North. Business deals which were held under the table, and the weapons that The Council needed to protect itself from man, these actions would force surveillance from the police on them. In recent years, due to the ceasefires and decommissioning of arms from terrorists on these shores, the Council have been able to move more quietly. In fact in the last five years, two Hunters have only came to the door, and not one of them managed to get to a member of the council. Of course a few members of the security force had been to dust, but the council, they were safe.

Myles smiled as he waited, the lights were starting to bug his eyes. He liked to wear woollen clothes, sheared based clothes, and only had one leather belt, and one pair of leather shoes. Plastics and other synthetics would form the basis for his wardrobe collection. But there was nothing more he liked that to wear his thick Aaron sweater. It reminded him to a time of less complications.

The hours ticked by. Not mattering to the Vampire. It was like minutes to him now. This was his reason for taking the boat. Time is not worth spending anymore. When you live each second, and feel through the time to the being of it, then it’s worth spending. He thought about going to therapy once or twice, but in his living years such thoughts were Heresy and would still stick in his mind.

Finally the Council was ready to greet him. Myles stepped into the chamber, the door shut behind him with a near silent whisper. He was expecting to see the many members of the Council, but only Tobius Mitchell was there. The head of the Council.

Tobius was the eldest Vampire in Ireland, predating the Viking Invasions, in which it’s suspected his turning took place. He was an imposing figure, 6’6” tall, and about three hundred pounds in weight. Myles was tall, but only struggling over the six foot mark. Tobius stood in front of the Council bench, his back turned to Myles.

“You called for me?” Myles used this as his announcement that he was in the room, also he held a spark of interest of ‘Why?’ he was called. Tobius turned to see Myles there, Tobius smiled.
Myles didn’t like the smile, he knew that the council always smiled before they delivered bad news. Tobias pointed to a chair, and instinctively Myles knew to sit. He did so knowing that whatever news was to come, he wouldn’t like it.

“It’s a trying time.” Tobias said, there was a sound of defeat in his voice, and the smile was a distant memory now. “The word has spread, the Dawn Boat Suicide idea is growing within our ranks.” Tobias sat in front of Myles, and Myles wished to be in his car, looking at the city streets, the tint on the window protecting him from the rays of sun that sometimes crept through Ireland.

“It starts with one, and soon another will follow and then, before we know it, there will be entire ships going out onto the sea.” The next word came with a scowl on the face “Paul, I don’t believe that he would have went through with his death if he had known the consequences.”

Myles had to hold his mind in check. If Tobias was a searcher he could look into Myles’s mind and see the new plans for self termination that lingered there.

“We’ve learned of a second case. A new born, only about twenty years a Vampire, and she has decided to follow the footsteps of……………….” Scowl.”…………… Paul.”

The conversation was looking clear to Myles now, Tobias wanted him to stop the new born.

“No, I don’t want you to stop her, I want you to bring her before us. This Council will decide how to proceed with the situation. We know that you are kind to the Human’s, and as this creature still believes that she is human, your help here will be most, appreciated.”

That smile was back again, Myles remembered that his mortal father would look at him with the same grin, after receiving a beating from the man, Myles would see that ear to ear smile. He knew what it meant, the ‘it’s for your own good’ smile.

A few minutes passed, Myles let his mind go blank as he waited to reply. If you allow your mind to go blank in the presence of a searcher it irritates them to the highest extreme, and a Council member is not someone to fool around with at the best of times. The Council member started to grow impatient, and Myles didn’t have to be a Searcher to know that.

“I want to get this straight, you want me to reason with a girl, to come in and talk to you.”

“Yes” Tobias felt better, though Myles let his mind clear again, there was a feeling that he was getting the picture.

“Talk to you, and you can persuade her that she is making a dreadful mistake. Really civilised?”

Tobias stood, and walked to the door.

“Myles, you will find a file on the lady in your car, I suggest you start to do as we ask, and don’t ask too many questions, of us and yourself.”

As he left the room Myles shuddered from a distinct coldness. As he reached his car he looked behind him and saw something that he believed to be legend.

A Warlord Vampire standing behind him.

Warlords were different to Vampires, and in most ways the same, they had the thirst for blood, were still effected by sunlight, and above all fell under the powers of the Council. Their differences were that they only killed prey that would be a threat to them, they hunted the hunters, and they won, every time. They shaved their heads and kept their horrific vampire features constantly, not caring who saw their face, as anyone who did would usually die. It had been a long time since Myles had crossed paths with a Warlord, and he’d hoped that he would never do so again.

It was in the early eighties, and food was everywhere, the race of vampires in Ireland lived happily knowing that the economic migration of the mortals would mean the kills would be put down to missing persons, and Hunters would not put two and two together and find that it equalled Vampires.

Myles had been working to find a young girl, Louise Loane, aged 12 at the time. She had ran away from home when her mother hitched up with a new man, the poor girl didn’t know why her Daddy had to go, and one night she took a chance and took to the street.

Myles had found the poster for the missing girl, and knew that she would be perfect prey for his people, he made a choice that this girls blood would not fall on the lips of vampires.

Finding her was not hard, twelve year olds are not that world weary, she had made her way to her Grandmothers house. The problem was that her Grandma’s house had burnt down four years past. Little Louise had bought some candy from the pocket money that her father had mailed to her over the last few months. Myles waited, hid in the darkness near to the house. The little girl was sleeping by sundown and he managed to get her into his car without waking her. When she was safely inside, laying on the back seat, he closed the door and went to get into the drivers seat, but something caught his eye.

An alleyway, and a man being slain, which to a Vampire is no big deal, but sometimes Myles would like to watch another Vampire taking a life. He was envious of their ability to kill, to hunt innocence without impunity. A belief in all life being precious is not a good thing for a creation like Myles.

The Vamp in this case was a warlord Vampire, identified by his shoulder length, steel coloured hair, and their bodies are extremely well built. Warlords possess great speed of movement and their strength is unsurpassed the world over. They also freaked out any normal Vampire, as they carry the orders out of their governing Council to the letter.

This night. Myles had gotten a little bit too close to the action for the Warlords liking. After the prey had fallen and the life blood taken, the Warlord glanced over to Myles, and the next moment was gripping Myles by the lapels and heisting him off the ground. Myles felt glad that he no longer used his rectum for excretion, otherwise at this moment he would have to take a time out and change his pants.

“You stink of humanity!” the Warlord growled at him. Myles didn’t know how lucky he was, being able to first see a Warlord, and now to hear him speak.

At this moment, before Myles could speak a loud bang went off around them and smoke raised from the ground. The distinct scent of garlic raised from the canister. Myles made it into his car, where Louise still slept soundly. The Warlord was being set upon by a hunter, a steel spike being held two inches from his heart.

At this time Myles took his leave. The rear-view mirror showed the fight continuing as the car sped off into the night.

“The Council has elected that you report to me. When you find this Vampire, you will bring her to me, then you can be on your way.”

Myles stood and listened, he didn’t know if to smile or to shit his pants, maybe a nod. Without a word, Myles entered his car, making sure to listen for the Warlords steps in the opposite direction. But a thought occurred to him.

“How will I contact you?” But the Warlord was gone.

Funnily enough Myles knew that when the time came the Warlord would contact him. Another thought came to him, he would need more help. Time to call on a friend.

END OF PART ONE…