Taunt

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Taunt Page 14

by Claire Farrell


  “Where’s the money, Delaney?” he demanded.

  “You said I had some time,” I said as quietly as I could. At least I hadn’t screwed up his mind for all time.

  “Yeah, well, I changed my mind. Hand it over,” he roared. I backed up slightly and could tell by the gleam in his eye that he saw that as a victory.

  “I don’t have it,” I muttered, mortified that Peter was witnessing the scene. “You said I had time. Why would I have it now?”

  “Don’t be a cheeky bitch. I need that money! Now!”

  “Whoa, back the fuck up there,” Peter said, stepping between us. His jaw was tight, his tone low and scary. “There’s no need for that crap.”

  McGreavy paled and stepped back, his hands in the air. “I don’t want no trouble, I just want my money.”

  “Come back in a couple of weeks. If she doesn’t have it, I will,” Peter said firmly, then slammed the door in my landlord’s face. I peered through the peephole and saw him muttering to himself, as if debating whether to let it go or not. With a sigh of relief, I saw him head down the stairs. I leaned my forehead against the door and covered my cheeks with my hands, wanting the ground to swallow me up.

  “Ava?”

  I turned, but Peter was too close, blocking my way.

  “What was that about?” he asked, reaching out for me. I blocked his touch, feeling too exposed and little. He flinched visibly, but I ignored it and sat down.

  “I’m behind on my rent is all. He said he would give me a few more weeks to pay.” I didn’t tell him I had made McGreavy say it.

  “I thought you were doing okay,” Peter said, sitting as far away from me as possible. Even then, I felt a chill emanating from him.

  “I was. Until the whole thing with Maximus. It screwed up a lot of deals because I wasn’t around to work or delay anything or even get in contact with anyone. I’m behind on everything, but I’m catching up,” I lied.

  “You need a lend? Something to tide you over?”

  My stomach turned. I definitely did not want to take money from Peter. Things were messy enough. When I declined, he looked as if he had taken it as a personal insult. I couldn’t win.

  “We should head on to Becca’s place,” he said, standing abruptly. “Get whatever you need to bring to Eddie’s and come out to the car.” He left without looking back. I felt like crying. Every time we started getting comfortable around each other, we’d either have a tense and sexy moment, or a tense and misunderstood one.

  As we drove to Becca’s flat, I tensed up even more, remembering how Peter had reacted the last time we went there. Granted, I’d been in full-on attack mode, but he hadn’t handled it well.

  We headed straight for Becca’s flat and knocked on the door. After a minute, she opened it and then tried to slam it shut again, but Peter stopped her. She rolled her eyes in resignation and let us in without much comment.

  “What now?” she asked, her hands on her hips.

  “Christ, you look worse than earlier,” Peter blurted out. Becca scowled, but she really did look terrible.

  “Is that what you came to say?” she said, her sarcasm hiding her fear.

  “No,” I said. “You need to tell us everything you know about the formula.”

  She lounged on her sofa and lit a cigarette. “Or not.”

  “Remember what happened last time I paid you a visit?” I asked.

  She made a face, and her fingers trembled around the cigarette. She grinned suddenly, and I noticed that her teeth looked different. Not fanged, just different somehow. Her eyes were redder than before, and her heartbeat was incredibly slow. With a pang, I realised she was very close to death. Whether she kept living or not was another issue.

  “There you go again with the threats,” she said. “And you make out they’re the monsters?”

  “That’s enough.” Peter took a seat across from Becca. “It’s time to do the right thing, Becca.”

  “Oh, and I’m doing the wrong thing right now? Says who? You and your daywalking girlfriend? Bullshit, Peter. I’m not hurting anyone, you sanctimonious prick.” She stubbed the cigarette with angry stabbing motions.

  “I thought you cared about Maximus,” I said.

  She glared, her eyes glittering. “Don’t talk about him. You don’t know him. He was special.”

  “Yet you hang around with Gideon now.” I shook my head with an exaggerated sigh.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She sat back, but I could see the spark of interest in her eyes.

  “You do know that he helped set Maximus up, right? I mean, he was never loyal to Maximus anyway, and the dust had barely settled before he took over. He was a little too on the ball. He made sure nobody was around to protect Maximus.” I waited, but she stayed silent, and I lost hope. I glanced at Peter, but he wouldn’t look at me.

  Becca rubbed her forehead so hard, it left a pink dented mark. “He destroyed all of Max’s precious things. Max kept his human belongings for so long that they turned into artifacts. Gideon. That traitorous—I knew it!” She slammed her hands on the coffee table, and it collapsed, startling Peter and me. She got up and paced the room, shaking her head every now and then. When she finally whirled around to acknowledge us again, I was ready for her to lose the plot completely.

  “I need that formula. If it stops now, I’m screwed. I can’t even take it late. I’m going to keep taking it, and then I’m going to make sure I repay Gideon for everything he’s done.” She sat back down and closed her eyes. Her arms looked floppy and weak, like she was suddenly out of energy. When she opened her eyes again, they were watery and dazed.

  I decided to keep asking questions until she answered. “I want to know about the testing going on and the formula the vampires are using. Do you know what’s in it?”

  Her words slowed. “I hardly asked, I don’t care.”

  Peter sighed. “Where do they keep it?”

  “They don’t keep it. They use it straight off. It doesn’t keep, or they don’t want to get caught with it. I don’t know.”

  “Can you get us some of it?” Peter asked.

  “No. Only a tiny bit arrives. I need every drop.” She sighed and rubbed the back of her head against the chair.

  “Why would you want to turn, Becca?” I asked. “Last in, first out, especially when the quota gets a little tight.”

  “Yeah, well, the way I hear it, there won’t even be a quota for much longer. I ain’t worried, love.”

  Peter and I exchanged glances. Was Gideon honestly planning on staging a rebellion against the Council?

  “I’m tired.” She yawned. “I need a lot of sleep these days.”

  “We should go,” Peter said, and headed for the door. He held it open for me and hesitated as I passed him by. I heard him tell Becca she could come to him if she needed help. I looked at him quizzically when he joined me, but he pretended not to notice. I wondered if he was being soft or if he had another plan.

  We got back into the car and drove back to Eddie’s place.

  “So what do you think?” I asked.

  “It’s screwed up. She’s all over the place. She was the same earlier, up and down. I think you got to her about Gideon though. I might just be able to persuade her to speak to the Council about him.” He kept nodding like he could hear her already.

  “She doesn’t have long left, Peter. I’m sorry,” I said, hesitant to ruin the mood but wanting him to know.

  “She barely looks human anymore.”

  “Do you think there’s a chance? That she’ll turn?”

  “Maybe. But I’m more worried about what she’ll turn into,” he replied.

  I gave him a pointed look. He clarified, “What I mean is, vampires were made from a type of human that doesn’t exist anymore. Technically, because our bodies have adapted enough to ward off their poison, we’re a new variation, and we don’t know how the poison will react with our systems. I’m concerned that she’ll turn into something we don’t know anything a
bout.”

  “I’m sure she won’t.” I tried to sound confident, but he was right. Technically, we didn’t know what we were dealing with. But if anything had gone wrong in Spain, then surely they wouldn’t be selling the formula to vampires abroad. Not unless they wanted it to go wrong. I bit my lip, worrying.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, noticing my concern. “It’ll be fine.”

  “We all keep saying that, but nothing’s fine. That was some screwed up stuff in Eddie’s shop, and yesterday he tried to attack me. I swear, it looked like he was using people’s souls or something. Then the thing with Esther and the shifter who committed suicide. Lots of strange things are happening. It seems like something bigger is going on while we’re hung up on the little things.”

  The worry flooded out of me; I couldn’t stop it. Peter pulled over sharply, and cars behind us beeped at the lack of a warning.

  “Wait,” Peter said, turning in his seat to face me. “Back up. Did you say Eddie attacked you with souls?”

  “He tried to. Somehow I managed to block it, but don’t ask how.” I held out my hands. “I know it sounds crazy, but that’s how it felt at the time. I saw something, and I was convinced they were souls.”

  “You said the darkness was on my soul. How would you even be able to see a soul? Vampires can’t do that, how can you?”

  “I don’t know! I don’t know why I used the word soul even. It just made sense to me.”

  He puzzled over it for a few seconds. “If it makes sense to you, then I believe you.”

  “Don’t think I’m evil anymore?” I asked with a laugh, but I was only half joking. I held my breath, waiting for his answer.

  “I don’t care what you were born as,” he said. The kindness in his eyes calmed my nerves. “You try to do good, and that’s what counts.”

  I shivered, but in a good way. The air sparked with tension again; the sensation felt perfectly normal. That was partly what I enjoyed about Peter’s company; he brought out the human in me.

  “I suppose we should get back to the bookshop before Eddie spontaneously combusts. I’ve had about twenty missed calls from him today,” Peter said, but he didn’t move.

  “Okay.”

  He studied me until I squirmed in my seat. He laughed at my awkwardness and took pity on me. “I’ll make sure people are watching Becca from now on. We don’t want to miss any of these deliveries. I reckon there’ll be one before the trial. If we can’t persuade Becca to help, then we’ll just have to catch them in the act.”

  I liked the sound of that.

  Chapter Twelve

  We made it back to the bookshop before Eddie’s head exploded. Peter explained what had happened at Becca’s to Carl and Eddie before leaving to brief Esther, who had already left.

  “I’m sorry about earlier,” I told Carl, my face roaring red.

  He smiled, nonplussed. “It’s cool. I should have warned you or something.”

  “You okay anyway? Looks like Eddie did a good job on your face.” Carl’s face was already a lot better, thanks to Eddie’s bag of tricks. He couldn’t sort out the lisp, but at least Carl’s eyes could open.

  I couldn’t relax around Carl. I no longer craved his blood, thankfully, but I was embarrassed by how weak I’d been when he needed me to be strong.

  “You’re being stupid,” he said, and made me look at him. “You didn’t do it on purpose.”

  “I know.” I shrugged. “You did good today. You probably made Esther help me. But don’t do that ever again,” I added before his ego swelled even more.

  He laughed and elbowed me gently. “It was fun, though.”

  “You’re so sick.” I hated the way he linked danger and pain with a good time.

  “Oh, I can’t believe I forgot. That chick, Yvonne, came here looking for you. Daimhín wants to speak to you. I told her you were with Peter, hope that’s okay,” he said, looking worried all of a sudden.

  “It’s fine. She’ll probably call him instead. I have absolutely no intention of going to see Daimhín. I’m not going to lie for her at the trial, and I can guarantee you that’s what she wants.”

  “Probably. So, what now?”

  “Now?” I sighed. “We wait, I suppose. Peter said he was going to get someone to follow Becca, to make sure we don’t miss the next delivery. They have frequent deliveries because they pass on small batches, so we could be lucky enough to get our hands on one before the trial.”

  “How do the deliveries arrive? Plane, post, courier, what?”

  “Um, I don’t know,” I admitted. “We kind of got overexcited about the little stuff.”

  Carl frowned. “That’s not like Peter.”

  I blushed; we might have been distracted.

  “We’re hoping Esther comes up with something, I suppose. And that I can escape from Cell Block Eddie once I have to move.” I pushed past him to wander amongst the book shelves. “Hmm, there’s a lot of interesting stuff here.”

  “Yes, there is,” Eddie said, startling me. “But unfortunately, this isn’t a library. Sit down for a few minutes, Ava. I want to discuss the trial with you.”

  I heaved a sigh and obeyed, feeling like an irritated teenager with an overprotective father.

  “I believe the trial will go as planned for the most part. You may be called upon to give your version of events, but that doesn’t always happen. Still, it’s better if you’re prepared. Go over what happened, make sure it’s clear in your mind. Don’t exaggerate or over-sensationalise. Be honest, concise, and… try not to be rude.”

  “What?” I asked, surprised.

  “You can be abrasive when you feel threatened. It’s better if you come across as non-threatening as possible, make them see you as vulnerable.”

  I glanced at Carl, but he looked like he agreed.

  “I am who I am,” I said, affronted. “I can’t help how I come across.”

  “Stop acting like a spoiled teenager for a minute, and think about the trial. It isn’t just the trial. This is your introduction into the world. Think of yourself as a debutante; you have to make the right impression. If the trial problem goes away, then there will be many interested in watching you. If they consider you a threat, you’re in trouble. Do you understand, pet?”

  He looked so earnest that I felt like trusting him, throwing my life into his hands and saying, “Yes, please, manage me.” I shook myself out of that in a hurry, fearing he was trying to cast his will or whatever on me once again. His unnatural power terrified me. I would always be wary of him, even when his eyes were as soft as a father gazing upon his only daughter, even when I desperately wanted to trust him.

  He took my hands, pleading with his eyes. “It’s not like the world you know, Ava. The rules are old and need to be followed. You need to show them you’re capable of doing as you’re told. You’ve lived on your own for long enough; it’s time for you to join the rest of us now.”

  I wasn’t sure why I felt so sad. Tears rolled down my cheeks. Surprised, I choked back a sob and brushed the tears from my face with my hands.

  Carl rushed over and put his arm around me. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have no idea,” I said, looking at my wet fingers as though they were stained with blood instead of tears.

  “She’s not feeling her own emotions,” Eddie said, turning away from us.

  “What does that mean?” I asked, looking up at Carl, who looked as confused as I was.

  “I’ve long suspected you could absorb emotion,” Eddie said after a pause.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Similar to an empath, you feel what others feel. You say you smell emotions, and I believe you, but I think it stems from you actually feeling what is in the air around you,” he elaborated.

  “I don’t get it. How is that possible?” I asked. Carl edged away from me noticeably. I frowned, seeing Eddie’s words as just another way for me to be alone.

  “Anything’s possible,” Eddie said with a calm smile. “I now believe the
thirst was hard for you to control because you were also struggling to control emotions that weren’t yours. Today, for example, you were in a small room during an emotionally charged situation. There were all sorts of feelings flying around. They overwhelmed you, and the thirst took over.”

  “I’m not sure—”

  “It’s true,” he interrupted. “I’m not sure if that should be known at the trial, at least not publicly. Maybe we’ll be forced to relate it if your lack of control comes up. It would be a simple task to introduce you to an experienced empath who could help you find the control you need to get by in life.”

  He was beginning to sound like a motivational speaker, and I felt a spark of hope. “Okay, say it’s true. How on earth would anyone else’s emotions get in the way and have an impact on my thirst?”

  “You maintain control over your thirst constantly. Once Carl was thrown in your path, you were fighting to control both aspects, anger, fear, any number of emotions, plus the desire to drink blood. It was too much because you weren’t prepared for it.” Eddie sounded matter-of-fact, but my thoughts raced.

  I thought about incidents that might back up his theory. I glanced at Carl, whose neck and ears had turned bright red, and wondered what emotions I’d absorbed from him.

  Then Arthur, maybe that would explain the kindred feeling I felt around him; he had felt it first, and I absorbed it. It would explain the incident in Gabe’s bar, barely. And Peter… well, I’d think about Peter another time.

  I felt my whole body go loose as the tension drifted from me. Maybe Eddie was right, and I wasn’t in control of myself; it wasn’t the thirst, it was everyone else around me. That didn’t sound right either.

  I shook my head. “No, can’t be. I don’t feel everyone’s emotions. I thought maybe Arthur, yeah, but none of the other vampires.”

  “Arthur was a young vampire, maybe a hundred-years-old. I believe he was one of the last to be turned. Perhaps he still retained enough of his humanity to affect you. The others have been dead a long time; their systems would work differently.”

 

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