When Vancha saw Steve, he drew a shuriken and threw it at him. But Steve had picked his spot carefully and the throwing star ended up buried in the wood of the log behind which he was standing.
"Bad luck, Sire," Steve laughed. "Care to make it the best throw out of three?"
"Maybe I can get him," Alice muttered, stepping up past Vancha. She raised her pistol and fired, but the bullet penetrated no deeper than the shuriken.
"Is that the preliminaries out of the way, or do you want to take a few more pot shots?" Steve called.
"I could possibly leap the pit," Vancha said dubiously, studying the rows of stakes between him and the stage.
"Don't be ridiculous," I grunted. Even vampires had their limits.
"I don't see anybody else," Debbie whispered, casting her eyes around the auditorium. The balcony above us - from where I'd spied on Steve and Mr Crepsley - could have been swarming with vampaneze and vampets, but I didn't think so - I could hear nothing overhead, not even a single heartbeat.
"Where's your army?" Vancha shouted at Steve.
"Around and about," Steve replied sweetly.
"Didn't you bring them with you?" Vancha challenged him.
"Not tonight," Steve said. "I don't need them. The only people sharing the stage with me are my fairy godfather - a.k.a. Gannen Harst - a certain Righteous Vampaneze, and a very scared young snake-boy. What's his name again, R.V.?"
"Shancus," came the reply from behind a log to Steve's left.
"Shancus!" Evra roared. "Are you all right?"
There was no reply. My heart sank. Then R.V. pushed Shancus out from behind the log, and we saw that although his hands were tied behind his back, and he was gagged, he was still very much alive, and he looked unharmed.
"He's a spirited lad," Steve laughed. "A bit loud though, hence the gag. Some of the language he uses? Shocking! I don't know where kids today pick up such filthy words." Steve paused. "By the way, how's my own beloved flesh and blood doing? I can't see too well from here."
"I'm fine, Dad!" Darius shouted. "But they killed Morgan! The grey one cut off his head with an axe!"
"How grisly." Steve didn't sound the least bit upset. "I told you they were savages, son. No respect for life."
"It was revenge!" Harkat yelled. "He killed Mr Tall."
There was silence on the stage. Steve seemed lost for words. Then, from a log close by Steve, I heard Gannen Harst call out to R.V., "Is this true?"
"Yes," R.V. mumbled. "He shot him."
"How do you know he killed him?" Steve asked. "Tall might have simply been wounded."
"No," Evanna answered, her first word of the encounter. "He is dead. Morgan James murdered him."
"Is that you, Lady Evanna?" Steve asked uncertainly.
"Yes," she said.
"Not up to any mischief, I hope, like siding with the vampires?" He said it flippantly, but his anxiety was evident - he didn't fancy a clash with the Lady of the Wilds.
"I have never taken sides between the vampires and vampaneze, and have no intention of starting now," Evanna said coolly.
"That's OK then," Steve chuckled, confidence returning. "Interesting about Mr Tall. I always thought he couldn't be killed by ordinary weapons. I'd have gone after him a long time ago if I'd known he could be so easily bumped off."
"Gone after him for what?" I shouted.
"Harbouring criminals," Steve giggled.
"You're the only criminal here," I retorted.
Steve sighed theatrically. "See how they slander me, son? They soil this world with their murderous presence, then point the finger of blame elsewhere. That's always been the vampire way."
I started to respond, then decided I'd be wasting my time. "Let's cut the crap," I called instead. "You didn't lead us here for a war of words. Are you coming out from behind that log or not?"
"Not!" Steve cackled. "Do you think I'm insane? You'd cut me down dead!"
"Then why did you bring us here?" I looked around again, nervous. I couldn't believe he hadn't laid a trap, that there weren't dozens of vampaneze or vampets slithering up on us as we talked. Yet I didn't sense a threat. I could see Vancha was confused too.
"I want to chat, Darren," Steve said. "I'd like to discuss a peace treaty."
I had to laugh at that - it was such a ludicrous notion. "Maybe you want to become my blood-brother," I jeered.
"In a way, I already am," Steve said cryptically. Then his eyes narrowed slyly. "You missed Tommy's funeral while you were recovering."
I cursed fiercely but quietly. "Why kill Tommy?" I snarled. "Why drag him into your warped web of revenge? Didhe 'betray' you too?"
"No," Steve said. "Tommy was my friend. Even while others were bad-mouthing me, he stuck by me. I had nothing against him. A great goalkeeper too."
"Then why have him killed?" I screamed.
"What are you talking about?" Darius cut in. "You killed Tom Jones. Morgan and R.V. tried to stop you, but? That's right, isn't it, Dad?" he asked, and I saw the first flickers of doubt stir in the boy's eyes.
"I told you, son," Steve replied, "you can't believe anything a vampire says. Pay no attention to him." Then, to me, he said, "Didn't you wonder how Tommy got his ticket to the Cirque Du Freak?"
"I just assumed?" I stopped. "You set him up!"
"Of course," Steve chuckled. "Withyour help. Remember the ticket you gave to Darius? He passed it on. Tommy was opening a sports store, signing autographs. Darius went along and 'swapped' his ticket for a signed football. We still have it lying around somewhere. Could be a collector's item soon."
"You're sick," I snarled. "Using a child to do your dirty work - disgusting."
"Not really," Steve disagreed. "It just shows how highly I value the young."
Now that I knew Steve had given Tommy the ticket, my mind raced ahead, putting the pieces of his plan together. "You couldn't have known for sure that Tommy would run into me at the show," I said.