Chapter 10

Ashley seethed. Ben was an arrogant bastard and he objected to his very existence, yet nothing he was finding in the pile upon pile of pointless paperwork gave him any evidence that he wouldn’t be the perfect Dark Earl of Crofton. His business dealings for the estate were brilliant, and Charles had handed off financial control decades ago with good reason. Vampires like the Redbourns were rich arseholes, usually relying on ancient wealth to enjoy their un-life, but Ben hadn’t been a drain on their income. Quite the opposite, and he had swelled the family’s coffers with some savvy investments.

Jack drew up a chair and sat next to him, placing a stack of papers and a plate of jam tarts on the table. “Maybe one of these will put you in a better mood. They’re really quite excellent.”

“Are you sure the red ones aren’t made from blood?” he asked. They did look good and he’d skipped lunch in a fit of annoyance after finding Ben had left another mocking book.

“Raspberry jam. If you don’t want them I will.” Jack picked up the book that had sent Ashley’s mood spiralling once again. “The Inside of a Peculiar Salmon by Evelyn Howes… well, it’s a niche interest but didn’t think it yours.”

“He’s saying I’m an odd fish.” Ashley snatched up a tart. “Redbourn is a prick.”

Jack flicked through the book. “He might be, but whoever wrote this knew what they were on about.”

“Since when were you an expert on salmon?”

“I’m not but then neither is the author. It’s about water creatures, and they’re spot-on, including treatments of their ailments.” Jack peered at the page. “I’ve never seen a potion to deal with siren scale drop before.”

“It’s not like you ever needed one, you didn’t inherit having permanent scales.”

Ashley grabbed the book, Jack was right. “The potion work is amazing. Have you ever heard of Evelyn Howes before?”

“No.”

Ashley flicked to the back of the book, there was a list of their other books and a short biography.

Evelyn Howes writes books with words in them. Most of the words are in the correct order. The content of Ms Howes’ books are not for those who are short of temper or do not like to think. The potions are based on the competency of the author, no guarantee is given for success for those of an inferior skill set or low intelligence.

“They are confident in their abilities.” He rather liked the humour. “Perhaps I will run through a potion, it might improve my mood.”

“You’ve a few hours before nightfall. Did you have any luck with the box?”

Another sore point. In a cupboard in the library he’d discovered a spell box, warded and protected. No matter what he’d tried, nothing had opened it. “No, you?”

“I’ve a few more options to try, but I’ve got the feeling that it’s blood sealed so only direct permission from the owner of the blood will get it to open.” Jack chewed on a jam tart. “This is not what I’d call complete cooperation.”

“No, he’s skirting the edges and knows it too. Is there a way to force him to open the box?”

“As a Senior Warlock you could cast mis-a-seer.”

Ashley groaned. “I don’t like the idea of using a spell that could technically be considered mind control.”

“I don’t think it’d work that way on a vampire anyway. I’ll have a look for an alternative but I’m not sure there’s much out there—even the elves don’t fuck about with blood-sealed spell boxes.”

“But if he has something to hide, why leave a spell box in plain sight? It’s asking for us to demand to open it.”

Jack sighed. “Have you found anything in all the paperwork that suggests he’s done something so terrible or out of order that he shouldn’t be the next Dark Earl?”

“No, nothing. He even keeps a full record of his body count.”

Jack smirked. “Which one?”

“The larder variety. Pervert.”

“If the rumours are true then he fucks more than he drains. I also saw he was friends with the guy who created the blood bottling process… nice investment there.”

The idea of Ben fucking lots of people made Ashley prickle in annoyance, not because he wanted him, but that Ben appeared to be so indiscriminate. Ashley had taken many lovers over the years but he’d not gone through them like a dose of salts and remembered most, if not all them. He suspected Ben never even stopped to ask a name.

“Well, none of it makes him unsuitable to be a Dark Earl, does it?”

“Kinda my point. I think we’d have found some hint by now. I know we’ve not been here a week yet, but I think he could’ve been targeted and he is the victim, we should be looking for who did it.”

Ashley slouched in his seat. “It’s too early for that conclusion. But we could develop a list in parallel, starting with his siblings.”

“What about Charles? He’s the outgoing one, perhaps Ben had been applying pressure for him to go.”

From what Ashley had seen, Charles was desperate to retire, and had been handing control of the earldom to Ben over the years. “If anything, he wants out more than Ben wants in, so I don’t think so.”

“Any known enemies in the vampire community?”

“Not that I’ve seen or heard.”

Jack huffed. “So as it stands, we’ve no evidence that he’s anything but the best vamp for the job, and nothing to suggest who made a malicious report against him.”

The door opened and Ashley was surprised to see Catlin Redbourn. “Oh, sorry to disturb you, I didn’t realise you were still in here.”

She was a petite woman, but Ashley knew better than to underestimate a vampire, she could probably snap him in two if she wanted. “We’ll be finishing up in a few minutes. Is there something in here you needed?”

“Oh, nothing that can’t wait.” She had a notebook she held close to her chest. “I probably misremembered anyway.”

“What was it?” Jack asked, getting to his feet.

“A book, I couldn’t find it where thought it was.”

“If you let me know the title I can tell you if I’ve seen it,” Jack said.

Ashley saw her gaze dart to a bookcase behind Jack. She blinked rapidly. “Doesn’t matter. Sorry, I’ll leave you in peace.”

Jack puffed out his cheeks as the door closed behind her. “I don’t know about you but did that seem a bit odd?”

“Very strange.” He went over to the bookcase and Jack came to join him. “See anything that looks out of place?”

They scanned the shelf, reading the spines and Jack tapped one. “Everything else on this shelf is fiction, this is about fly fishing.”

“This household doesn’t strike me as the sort to have books missorted. I saw Billins inspecting the paintings to ensure they were straight the other morning, I don’t think he would sanction books being out of place.”

“I can’t imagine Karl allowing it either,” Jack said, taking the book off the shelf. “He might call himself the valet, but the hall is his domain, the spectral butler isn’t up to keeping Karl’s standards.”

Jack flicked through the book and a yellowed piece of paper fluttered to the floor. Ashley picked it up. It was a family tree, handwritten with scribbles for names and wonky lines but it was clear who was the subject. Ashley tapped the name. “Harry Redbourn, nee Harold Shelby.”

“According to this, he’s a descendant of Charles Redbourn through Charles’s original mortal offspring Samuel Yardly.” Jack made a low humming noise. “I didn’t see anywhere in the family notes about there being progeny.”

“As with most vampires, the next in line is sired not born for the House of Hewel, so it was possibly not considered.”

“But it’s a bit of coincidence, though, Charles happens to pick someone with a direct blood link. You’d have thought it would have made him more likely to have picked Harry over Ben,” Jack said.

“Either that or it’s the reason he didn’t. There’s a lot of funny ideas in vampire culture.” Ashley took the piece of paper and placed it back in the book. “I sense the Redbourns might not have wanted that little titbit getting out.”

“I wonder… is Catlin protecting Ben, as Harry might be seen as a more valid heir, or is she protecting Harry since, based on his heritage, he could have just cause to try to prevent Ben from becoming the earl?”

Ashley shrugged. “Could be either.”

Jack returned to the desk he’d been sitting at. “I’m not in the mood for any more today.”

“Me either.” Ashley glanced down at The Inside of a Peculiar Salmon. “I’m going to get the demon to let me try brewing something from this. Maybe I can think straight after I’ve calmed my mind a bit.”

“Good idea. I’m going to take an obscenely long bath. I’ve a new combination of salts that should knock the dryness on the head.”

“You’re turning into a stereotype.” He smirked. “Are you sure you’ve not had an outcrop of droopy scales? I could knock you up a new potion if you need it.” He waved the book at Jack.

Jack left with a one-fingered salute. Ashley flicked his wrist and tidied away the papers on the desk, then rang for Karl.

Karl appeared from nowhere, Ashley was getting used to it now. “Mr Niven, how can I be of assistance?”

“You said if I wanted to brew there were outhouses I could use.”

“Is there a potion you need? We have a well-stocked range.”

“No, I want to try something from the book his lordship left me.”

If Karl was expecting a different answer he didn’t show it. “Very well, outhouse number four is available. Do you have an ingredient list?”

He flipped open the book and pointed to the potion designed to help remove phantom moths. “There’s nothing overly special, just the brewing itself would be a little complicated to an amateur.”

Karl scanned the page. “All those should be in the supply cupboard. Lord Crofton has exacting standards when it comes to those sorts of things.”

“I didn’t think Charles was much of a brewer.”

Karl chuckled. “Indeed, he’s not, but I was referring to the Viscount of Crofton. Now if you’d follow me.”

Ben had alluded to being a deeper thinker than Ashley had given him credit for, but brewing was a considered and painstaking craft, not one he could imagine Ben doing. “Does he keep an apothecary on the staff?”

“No, sir. His lordship likes to dabble from time to time.”

Potion-making wasn’t something to dabble in and when they reached the outhouse, Ashley was shown to a laboratory beyond the needs of a casual dabbler. It was rather like his own personal suite of rooms, including an impressive selection of equipment. “Is this where Ben brews?”

“One of the laboratories, sir. The one next door has a higher containment level, so he tends to use that for some of his more experimental sessions.”

Ashley picked up a small copper cauldron and realised it had a ruby lining. He had one similar for a particular potion that took days to get right. “Does he make the sleeping draft of fell?”

“Yes, sir. It’s for Dr Callagan, who sometimes has trouble sleeping on the run-up to the full moon and he finds it gives him a decent rest. He was using human sleeping tablets before he joined the hall and it was causing his hair to fall out.”

Being a werewolf was bad enough but having bald patches was an additional ailment Ashley wouldn’t wish on anyone. But the draft of fell took a great deal of skill and was even tuned to the recipient. “I must admit I’m surprised Ben would go to such trouble.”

“His lordship is a generous man with his time and ability.” Karl squared his shoulders. “Now, let me open the supply cupboard for you, otherwise you won’t be able to gain access.”

Once again Ashley wondered what Ben had done to make a demon so loyal but he also knew Karl wasn’t about to tell him. He followed Karl to the corner of the room where he was opening a set of double doors, Ashley peered around him to see a walk-in cupboard of potion supplies that would keep him occupied for months.

“Are those nilsberries?” he asked, surprised to see them. “I didn’t think they’d survive in a house like this.”

“A friend of his lordship has put a protective charm over them, as you’re correct that they usually perish in an undead household and the patches of lingering dark are another issue.”

“Crofton Hall has lingering dark patches?” It was nasty stuff, pockets of bad magic that wouldn’t clear.

“Not uncommon for a house of its age and occupation.”

“True. I hadn’t noticed it though.”

“Alex monitors the patches, he tries to keep them contained.”

If anyone could do that, it’d be an elf, but it was nigh on impossible to irradicate.

“Is there anything here I can’t use?” Ashley scanned the shelves seeing everything his potion-making heart could desire, and thought he might be popping back a few times while he was at Crofton Hall.

“All available for your use, but if you could log what you take for easy replacement, I’d appreciate it. Now, if you would excuse me, I need to prepare the household for the night. Click your fingers and say my name if you need anything.”

Shaking away the awe that a fanged idiot such as Ben Redbourn could have amassed such a stellar ingredient collection, Ashley flicked open the book and decided against the moth potion and instead began to collect the items he needed for a body lotion he thought Jack might appreciate, given it claimed it was suitable for any aquatic dweller. They’d had a strange week and Ashley knew Jack was still adapting to the water supply, his siren ancestry popping up at the oddest time to make his life difficult.

He selected a medium iron cauldron and added two measures of water before placing it over an orange flame. It was often the basics people got wrong, using the wrong-sized equipment, or the incorrect heat, or just being impatient and not measuring things correctly. The act of creating a potion calmed Ashley and following precise steps helped him remove chaos from other parts of his life. Forgetting to cleanse a cauldron before use was something an amateur would do, and he didn’t care how clean it looked, he had his methods and he would stick to what he knew worked.

The next hour or so he spent chopping and preparing ingredients, there were a lot of them and they all needed to be treated in the right way or they’d be useless. A mangled ginger root would do nobody any favours.

Now with everything ready and a clean cauldron, Ashley could begin. He read the instructions for the seventh or possibly eighth time and he was sure he knew what he was doing. On the surface it was a standard camomile base but the addition of ginseng meant he would need to be careful for it not to curdle.

The addition of the lavender was another tricky step and he would need to concentrate.

“You’re stirring too slowly, the lavender won’t flocculate if you don’t speed up.”

He glanced up to see Ben in black jeans and a polo shirt leaning against the bench, Ashley had never seen him dressed so casually. “I know what I’m doing, thank you very much.”

“You’ve never brewed that potion before, take it from someone who has, that you need rapid stirring at this step or you’re wasting your time and my ingredients.”

Ben was right as the lavender wasn’t floating like it should nor was it changing colour, he sped up his stirring action. Part of him wanted to ignore the advice, but he couldn’t let a good potion go to waste.

“No doubt you’ve ruined several attempts to figure that out,” Ashley said. “I was about to make the adjustment when you offered your unsolicited advice.”

“Of course you were.”

Ashley was confident in his own skills, and he was positive that even if Ben hadn’t turned up and interfered he would have noticed and have made the change. “I am capable of making observations, I have been brewing these sorts of potions for longer than you’ve been dead or alive.”

“Not that one you haven’t. It was only published eighteen months ago.”

“If you comprehended the competence required for brewing potions to a proficient level then you would have known that most of them have key principles that have to be adhered to.”

Ben’s gaze was cool. “You’re speaking to me as if you think I don’t understand, but rest assured I am more than capable of recreating any potion that’s in that book.”

“I’m sure you think it to be the case.” Ashley added the pulverised cherries, stirred four times clockwise fast and twice slowly anticlockwise, then turned down the heat. He refused to let Ben distract him.

“The author is aware of my interests and I had access to those recipes months before they were published.”

“Forgive my scepticism, but your interests are not known for being of the academic variety, and I can tell by the quality of Ms Howe’s explanations, that she would be far too intelligent to waste her time on you.”

“For someone who has spent the last few days combing through my personal papers, I’d have thought you’d have known more about me.”

Ashley had met men like Ben before, full of swagger and their own belief they were brilliant. “A few half-decent essays written as an undergraduate do not make you a genius. Besides which, you lost your way when you chose to join a society at Cambridge that turned you into a bloodsucker.”

“I completed my studies.”

“Yes, I read that. Trinity College has always been a bit on the dark side. But then your sire probably gave them a decent donation to do so.”

“There was no need. But perhaps you are talking from your own experience. Did Daddy Niven have to buy your way? I mean I don’t doubt you’ve some powerful magic in you, but that doesn’t mean you are bright enough to use it.”

Ashley stepped forwards. “I am bright enough not to let you rile me. Your small-minded diversionary tactics will not work with me.”

“Your potion’s burning.”

Ashley hissed and turned to see a telltale glint on the surface of the liquid. “You are not helping your cause.”

“And what cause might that be?”

“Getting rid of me. You’re just making me more determined to find the reason why someone is trying to stop you from becoming the next Dark Earl.”

“That suggests you haven’t found a reason yet.”

Dear God, Ben was insufferable. This pretty vampire needed knocking on his arse. “Open the spell box and I’m sure I’ll find what I need.”

Ben smirked. “If you’re such an unsurpassed warlock I’m sure you don’t need me to do it.”

“You are meant to cooperate.”

“Nowhere does it say I have to capitulate, though. Do your worst, Mr Niven.” He sauntered away. “By the way, I came to tell you dinner was ready. I won’t be dining with you I’m off out to enhance my reputation, but your friend is finally out of his bath. And there’s a jar of the body lotion you were attempting to make on the second shelf on the right in the cupboard. Please give it to Jack with my compliments.”

Ashley would not take this lying down, he wouldn’t let the arrogant prick get away with thinking he could win this. He needed to consult the library at the Warlock Sanctum, and dig a little deeper into a couple of things but he’d find a way to make Ben Redbourn open the spell box and teach the fucker some respect as he did so.