Helping Angelina get better at fighting was probably doing me more good than it was her. It kept me fast and strong and busy. Where I might have been lounging around restless and irritable, I now had something to focus on.
A week passed before I found some clues as to where one of Lucas' vampire buddies was. I was after Lucas, yes, but if I had to go through all his friends to find him, I would, no matter how long it took me. I abandoned the fighting lessons and hit the streets with an almost rabid obsession. Some nights I wouldn't go back to the squat at all - I just spent them roaming the last place in London they'd been seen or heard of.
At first I didn't notice it, but I wasn't alone. Everywhere I went, there seemed to be someone else, like I was being shadowed. A couple nights running, I hid as much as I could, mostly on the roofs of buildings. I felt more the vampire than the ones I was hunting when I did that, like I was stalking this person, waiting to pounce. I laughed it off, putting it down to watching too many horror movies and got on with watching this person. Over a handful of days and nights, there were things I noticed - it was a woman, a small, stocky little woman wearing loose clothes that concealed whatever features she may have been hiding under them. Her clothes tended to consist of combat trousers, a short sleeved shirt and a vest that looked a lot like the kind police wear, except it had no police logos on it. Her clothes not only concealed her body, but whatever weapons she might have been carrying. I had my own - a vicious looking hunting knife, strapped to my left arm with the handle pointing down so I could release it without rolling up my sleeve - but I didn't like that I couldn't see if she had any.
She milled around on street corners. If she wasn't following me... I frowned. Was she after the same thing? Or was she following me because I looked suspicious. I mean, she did look like she could be a plain clothes police officer, after all. But there was just something about her that didn't seem like she belonged with the cops. She had no radios, never approached me, and was always alone. There weren't any regular cars following her. The only regular thing following her was me.
The idea that we were both following each other made me smile. We were chasing each other's tails, maybe without even noticing it.
One night, I stopped tailing her. It was clear she was going to turn up in the same places as me every day whether I was on the top of a building or not. I was sat on a bench with a newspaper, half pretending to read it. From the corner of my eye, I noticed this woman walking towards me. My heart thudded against my rib cage for a moment as I dropped my left arm to make it easier to slide my knife out if I needed to.
"You've been following me," she said as she sat down. Her voice was quiet, but unmistakeably clear and definitely directed at me.
"I thought you were the one following me," I smiled slightly, looking back down at my newspaper, though I wasn't really looking at the words printed on the page.
"And you've been reading that page for an hour, already," she pointed out.
"I get the feeling we're waiting for the same person. If we are, why have you been watching me for the last hour?" I looked up at her properly. The nearest street lamp was far away enough that there was barely even a hint of light where we were sitting.