Read A Shade of Vampire 27: A Web of Lies for Free Online

clinked and then the door handle turned and clicked open. The door swung open slowly to reveal an elderly man who I guessed was in his seventies. What was left of his hair was white, and he wore a tweed waistcoat the color of mud and black corduroy pants. His back was hunched slightly as he gazed from me to Arwen.
    “What can we help you young ladies with?” he asked kindly, if not a little loudly.
    “You are Mr. Spencer Hulse?” I clarified.
    He squinted and said, “Can you speak a tad louder?” He chuckled dryly. “Hard of hearing, you see.”
    I hadn’t exactly been whispering but I asked again, louder this time, at a similar volume to his speech. “You are Mr. Spencer Hulse, is that correct?”
    “Yes,” he said.
    “Who is it, Spence?” the frail voice of a woman called from behind him.
    “Well, that’s what I’m trying to decipher here,” he called back, looking amused.
    “I’m a friend of your grandson, Lawrence Conway,” I said quickly.
    At this, his jaw dropped. “Lawrence? Really?”
    I nodded.
    “Oh my, my, my. Come in. Come in!” He pushed open the door wider, allowing Arwen and me to step inside.
    “Any friend of our Lawrence is welcome in our humble abode,” he said as he led us into a dimly lit corridor lined with seaside oil paintings.
    We followed him into a small sitting room where a fireplace crackled in its center. A floral-patterned sofa stretched the length of one of the wallpapered walls, with two rocking chairs on either side—one of the chairs was occupied by an old woman I could only presume to be Mrs. Hulse.
    Her wrinkled face lit up in a smile as she took in the two of us. “Did I hear you say Lawrence?”
    When she made no attempt to stand up, but rather reached out a hand for us, I took it that she was probably unable to stand, or at least did so with difficulty. I moved to her and took her hand, shaking it and curtsying a little.
    “Would you like some tea and biscuits?” Mr. Hulse offered.
    “Ah, no, thank you,” I said. “We really don’t want to take up much of your time.”
    “Then take a seat.” He gestured to the sofa, which we sank into, while he seated himself in the second rocking chair opposite his wife.
    “This may seem like a strange question,” I began, “but… when was the last time you saw your grandson?”
    The old couple’s eyes immediately filled with melancholy.
    “Not since our daughter Georgina’s funeral,” Mr. Hulse said. “Thirteen years ago.”
    “Why is that?”
    Mrs. Hulse sighed. “Well, it all stems from the life Georgina chose to lead,” she replied heavily.
    “And what kind of life was that?” I asked, leaning forward so much my butt almost slipped off the edge of the sofa.
    “She joined the International Bureau for Supernatural Investigation when she was just a girl,” Mr. Hulse replied.
    “Only eighteen,” Mrs. Hulse interjected.
    “She moved up to Scotland,” Mr. Hulse went on, “and was sworn to secrecy, as is the case for many of their recruits.”
    “By secrecy, you mean what exactly?” I asked.
    “They’re not allowed to tell anybody anything, not even their closest relatives,” Mr. Hulse replied.
    “Not even about their personal lives,” Mrs. Hulse added. “Since the two are very much intertwined in the life of an IBSI employee. At least, that’s what Georgina always told us.” She sighed again wearily. “We didn’t even know she had a boyfriend until she called us up one day and invited us to a small, private wedding ceremony. And then, soon after Lawrence was born, she and Atticus—”
    “Our son-in-law,” Mr. Hulse clarified.
    “—moved to America,” Mrs. Hulse finished. “We never got much of a chance to know or see Lawrence. We got to speak to him over the phone every other week. But he too has been following in his mother’s footsteps and interning with the organization. He’s also not allowed to talk much about anything really.”
    “So when was the last time you talked to