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churchgoers changed in an instant to one of hope and optimism. The same could not be said for the circling vampires. Momentarily stunned by the destruction of one of their number, they now refocused their attentions on the singer on stage.
    And the King carried on playing the blues.
    From his hiding place on the cold stone floor under the – surprisingly heavy – young kid he had dragged down with him, Sanchez looked up in awe.
    This was gonna be one helluva show.

Five
    Kione loved 31 October. There was something distinctive about the kill on Halloween. It just had that oh-so-sweet taste to it.
    Santa Mondega was home to vampires from all over the world, but the city centre was reserved for the undead from Europe and the Americas. The early vampire settlers had originated in Paris, and had been joined by many of their European cousins long before Columbus discovered America. In the eighteenth century the city had experienced a vast influx of Latin American refugees. Once settled, a number of them had soon become members of the undead and formed clans of their own. Before long, the vampire population had grown far too big for the city, so that by the time the African vampires, like Kione, had begun to arrive, an unwritten immigration policy had been introduced. As a result, the African and Asian vampires settled in the hills that ringed Santa Mondega. The Orientals and the North Africans, in particular, loved the freedom and fresh air of the hills and valleys, preferring to hunt their prey in the wild on the very edges of the city. All, that is, except Kione. He had long since been banished from the hills for breaking not just some, but all, of the tenets of the vampire code of honour. A creature without scruples, class or pride, he lived under the pier, scavenging nightly for anything he could lay his foul hands upon.
    During his time in the hills he had been a member of the Black Plague, a clan that had always kept to themselves. They were vast in number and as vicious as any other vampire clan, and it was well known that if they ever decided theywanted a piece of the action in the city an all-out undead war would ensue. One of the main reasons why they stayed out was because of an old wives’ tale that had originated many centuries earlier. Santa Mondega folklore held that for one hour each night scarecrows came to life and hunted down and killed any strangers that had ventured into the city. There had never been any evidence to prove it was true, but since there were scarecrows in the front gardens of many of the houses on the outskirts, it served its purpose in keeping the vampires from the hills on the fringes.
    The members of the Black Plague almost always travelled in large numbers on the rare occasions when they ventured into Santa Mondega, and the city clans did likewise whenever they chose to roam in the hills and valleys. Since Kione had no friends of his own kind – or any other, for that matter – he kept himself hidden away at the harbour, sometimes snatching mere fish and crustaceans for food. On other nights, however – like tonight – he would strike gold. Young innocents were his favourites, and tonight’s innocent was a mouth-watering proposition.
    He had watched the girl’s scarecrow companion depart, and had then eyed her up feverishly as she made her way along the promenade to the pier. He had prayed to the Goddess Yemaya to send the young girl his way on this special night. And Yemaya was listening. She had willingly guided the young girl along the promenade and on to the wooden pier to meet Kione. He was not about to turn down such a fine offering.
    Clinging by his long fingernails to the final wooden slat at the end of the boardwalk, he waited patiently for the perfect moment to strike. The girl looked so happy and carefree, which was just how Kione liked them best. For a while he allowed her to stand and gaze out at the ocean, as he in turn stared and marvelled at her shiny red shoes. Soon