Rebel Vampires: The Complete Series

by Rosemary A Johns

  I’d forgotten the glory of a right royal barney, even amidst the horror, fear, and knowledge that I was aboard a burning ship in the middle of an ocean — all alone — because right now this felt bloody good.

  When at last I let go, Silverman punched me across the temples, until I could see the stars, even though we were below decks. But he was down, bleeding out from his wound. Then we were wrestling, lost in the chemical fog. The toxins infected my lungs: I struggled to breathe.

  Vampire bollocks myth… Bugger it, we need oxygen, that’s what’s in the blood, all right? It’s why the heart pumps it around the body.

  I thrashed to escape Silverman. If I didn’t escape the corridor, I’d die from the fumes.

  Silverman, however, pinned my arms above my head.

  Luckily for me, I didn’t play by gentlemen’s rules; I nutted Silverman, hearing the familiar yelp and crunch of a breaking nose. Silverman was a determined bugger, however, and still didn’t let go. His grip, however, loosened just enough for me to wriggle one wrist free and down to my pocket. I snatched out the syringe of paralyzing venom. My lungs searing hot, throat hoarse from trying to gasp in air that wasn’t there, I was in the realm of last bloody hopes, when I rammed the syringe into Silverman’s throat.

  Silverman’s eyes widened. He scrabbled at the syringe, but I’d emptied the whole sodding lot before he could yank it out.

  How’s that for poetic justice?

  Silverman backhanded me one more time, before he stiffened and fell back, one eyelid twitching, as he stilled. I pushed him off my legs and then crawled closer.

  “You’re a bloody monster.” I stared down into Silverman’s eyes, which were still open and staring as vacantly as the First Lifers, who I’d discovered having the life sucked from them in Silverman’s lab. I reckoned he had as much chance of hearing me, as they’d had. “Know what? I can smell burning, can’t you? Best of British to you, mate.”

  I patted Silverman on his motionless head, before throwing myself through the smoke, up the steps, and onto the deck. When I rushed to the rail and stared out over the churning ocean, I could just see the lifeboat — a tiny speck carried away on the waves.

  I was about to take my jacket off to jump into the water but hesitated because…it’s a blinding coat. When you get to wearing something for such a long time, it becomes your second skin. So, I figured that I could still make it even in my leathers (after all, I’ve always liked the thrill of danger), when Kira’s arm caught me around the throat.

  Kira dragged me back across the slippery deck, my boots kicking ineffectually and sliding out from underneath me. I clawed at her, but the Night Witch was made of iron. My tongue wagged in my mouth; Kira was crushing my larynx.

  “Donovan was wrong. He should have let me kill you.” Kira chucked me across a pile of ropes.

  I gasped, rubbing my bruised neck. I ran my hand along the coils, looping one behind me.

  The lifeboat would be bobbing further and further away. If it was out of sight, I’d have to burn too on this ship or swim into the unknown. I didn’t fancy being caught in the waves, as the sun came up.

  Still, if this was my last stand, I’d promised I’d go down bloody kicking. I felt lighter than I had in weeks. I’d chosen how I went out of this Blood Life: now that’s liberation.

  I smirked in the way I knew had always annoyed Ruby the most. “Everyone makes mistakes, darling.”

  Kira hissed. She bent to grab me by the collar to haul me up. Her fist was already cocked. That’s exactly what I’d been waiting for.

  I caught Kira around the throat with the rope, twisting it in one quick motion, which I’d learned from the Blood Lifer in Berlin, who’d strangled his kills. I’m nothing but adaptable. I dragged Kira between my knees, pulling harder. I ignored the horrible little sounds, which she was making, as she scrabbled at the rope and then as she beat at my chest. Her feet flapped up and down. I throttled her until…

  Here it is: the biggest bollocks myth of them all. Because when I killed Kira there was no explosion of dust, blood, or dramatic screeching. There was simply a body, alive a moment ago and now dead for the second time. Blood Life, right? We’re as fully alive as you First Lifers and we die the same.

  I’d just murdered a member of my own family. Kira’s blood was on my hands, the same as every one of the First Lifers that I’d ever killed. Except, those had been about feeding. And Kira’s death had been a betrayal of my own species.

  I had to push Kira’s dead body off me, not quite knowing why tears were pricking the corners of my eyes.

  Smoke now billowed up onto the deck. I dashed to the side of the ship, clambering to the edge. There was the lifeboat — a shadow in the night.

  Sod the rope ladder.

  I dived straight into the freezing water, striking out for the boat and battling the force of the rolling waves. I swallowed mouthfuls of brine, shaking uncontrollably, as I was swept under the swell. But I was driven — possessed. I wasn’t going to be beaten, not after everything I’d seen and done. The lifeboat grew larger and larger, like a beacon.

  Do you want to know, however, what got me there, when I was close to sinking down to the seabed?

  I thought of you and your pain if Susan never got back to you safely. My legs were numbed to hell by then, but that thought made me kick harder. I pulled my arms more briskly through the skin of the water.

  At last I was there, heaving myself up over the side. I gasped and spluttered in a sopping heap on the floor of the lifeboat.

  That’s when I looked back. For the first time I allowed myself to focus on something beyond simple survival. I turned to watch Radio Komodo as it burned. The shadow of the high orange flames danced across the waves — bright in the dark — whilst the ship slowly sank.

  When I heard Susan groan behind me, I wrenched myself away from the sight of the world that I’d set alight and could now never return to. It’s not as if I wanted to after what I’d witnessed. Torching it, however, had set the seal on it.

  I dropped down beside Susan. She was beginning to come around. Her dress had ridden up; her knickers were on show. I quickly straightened her out so that she was decent and then on impulse, stroked her cheek because that’d soothed me when I was a kid.

  Susan stared up at me. “What’s...?”

  “You’re all right. Everything’s sorted now; I’ve got you.”

  I grabbed the oars, which rubbed against my raw palms. The blades ploughed through the waves, whilst I rowed us towards land, away from the burning hulk of Radio Komodo.

  Yet I was rowing Susan to safety, and myself only into worst danger. I’d destroyed Aralt’s lab and Silverman — saving the world from the venom — but it wasn’t enough. Nobody would be free until Aralt burned the same as his ship.

  Yet as soon as Aralt discovered what I’d done, he’d burn me.

  13

  DECEMBER 1968 LONDON

  When you caught sight of my bruised face as you opened the front door, you nearly slammed it shut again. I didn’t blame you, just to make that clear. Then, however, you saw Susan leaning on my arm. Susan was shivering under my damp jacket, which I’d wrapped around her in an attempt to keep her warm against the bite of the night air. Her jersey dress stank of brine.

  Instantly, you swung the door wide instead, dragging Susan inside.

  I sloped in after her, relegated again to the role of invisible man. It made me wish Kira had ripped out my heart (like she’d always promised), because the way you did it was more painful.

  You set to work, pulling out towels and blankets to drape around your cousin and then chucked my jacket to the floor, as if it was the cause of whatever had happened, rather than being the comfort.

  Maybe you had a point.

  Irrationally protective, I snatched up my leathers, nursing them to my chest, as you banged on the kettle. You slammed down the Union Jack mug, which I’d nicked from Carnaby Street and brought to keep here as if that’d meant I had a home with you as w
ell — clink — like the rattling of a bloody saber.

  And no, I didn’t miss that you were only brewing one cup of tea.

  You left me standing cold and damp like you reckoned that if you ignored me for long enough then I’d vanish — puff.

  I simply stood there, however, studying every inch of you because I’d been certain that I’d never get the chance to again.

  What’d happened to your long black curls? The ones that I’d fantasized about so many times in the agonizing weeks without you, when I was wracked with blood abstinence? Dreams of how I’d run my fingers through their softness, as we lay on your beanbags listening to Hendrix?

  You’d hacked them off. Nothing was left of them but the shortest Pixie cut.

  Moon Girl was no more; you’d killed her.

  You didn’t speak: not a single word. You didn’t look at me, even though I watched every move that you made. If this was the last time that I saw you, then I didn’t want to miss the smallest detail.

  My knees buckled, as I shook from exhaustion: nothing was keeping me upright, apart from the edge of adrenaline. I wouldn’t let myself sit down, however, not in front of you and not after I’d… Not after what I’d done. Instead, I leaned against the wall and started to talk. I gave you the sanitized candy floss of what was going on or at least as much as I dared.

  Look, that’s not an excuse: it’s an explanation.

  I told you that Advance was an evil corporation run by my criminal family. That the boss was worse than Caligula, if he’d had a twin and necked LSD like there was no tomorrow. That when I’d found out the danger of my situation, I’d broken up with you because I was in deep and craved to protect you and your cousin. Yet that you were both in danger now because of your link with me.

  In other words, I glossed over it. Just like every First or Blood Lifer always does, when it comes down to the true nasties of the world. I spun another bleeding cover up.

  What else could I’ve done? Would you even have believed me if I’d spilled the bloody truth? Freak as I was?

  When I’d finished, you simply stood across the lounge without moving. Your face was so cold, it made my breath catch. I might’ve been a century out of practice but I still knew that I was buggered.

  You shrugged. “You brought Susan back. Now you can go.”

  You meant it, bollocking hell did you. But when did I ever listen? I wet my dry lips. “Do you reckon that I saved her, just so you can both die now? You’ve got to leave.”

  You clenched your fists. “I’ve fought too hard for my life here. Do you reckon I’m going to run from your family?”

  My gaze softened. “Anyone would.”

  You tilted your chin. “I’m not anyone.”

  You were pig-headed; it was the streak of ruthless courage and ambition that I’d tasted in your Soul and made you so ripe for election…or death. Because in First Lifers it swings either way.

  When I stared into your blazing eyes, I knew that I wouldn’t convince you. The only emotion radiating from you towards me now was anger. That bloody hurt. “All right.” I ducked towards the door.

  Susan rose up, however, chucking off her blanket. She waved at both of us in disgust. “Are you both daft? Light saved me. That’s twice now. And you…?” Susan stabbed her finger at you. “Love him.” You flushed, turning away from me. My chest ached with hope, as I bit my lip. I was desperate to see your expression but I couldn’t. Was Susan right? “Who stayed up with you when you cried your eyes out over him? Why hide the truth? You’re both trapped. Look,” Susan marched to the door of her room, pausing in the frame, “I’ll pack and go stay with a friend in Manchester. You two sort it out.”

  Then Susan disappeared inside, slamming the door, and we were left alone.

  I was more frightened in that moment than when I’d been on the burning ship with the stink of roasting flesh and Kira’s brawny arm around my throat.

  Have you ever understood what you do to me? You could flay me with a look.

  We circled each other like two lions who were trying to work out if the other would attack.

  At last, you shrugged. “This is what it’s all been about? Advance? Your family? Why you...?”

  I looked down. “I never wanted to—”

  “Shut your mouth.”

  In the silence, I slumped against the wall. Every decision and choice were no man’s responsibility but his own; sod it, I knew that. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  You edged closer to me, step by careful step, reaching your fingers up like you were going to trace down my chest. I was desperate for your touch; I could feel it ghost-like. Your hand, however, hovered inches away from me as if I was infected. After the horrors I’d witnessed on Radio Komodo and Aralt’s vision of a Blood Life future, I felt as if I bloody well was.

  Your voice was soft and close to tears. “You promised that you’d never leave me.”

  And there it was: the killing blow.

  I howled inside with rage at everything the Plantagenet siblings had stolen, broken, and contaminated. At your pain, which I could never take back.

  You were right though. It was me alone, who’d made that promise. No one else.

  Yet now I’d endangered you again, and the only way to keep you safe was to send you away. You’d once said, however, that hurt could be passed on, and I intended to pass it on with bloody credit.

  I couldn’t risk myself saying more than, “Please go with Susan.”

  You just shook your head.

  “Christ in heaven…” I booted the wall hard enough to jolt the throbbing hurt from my smashed toes right up my leg and then grabbed you by your shoulders, not caring that you flinched away. “Please?”

  You stood — frozen — like you were made of glass, gazing at me with your large blue eyes, before you asked, “Do you love me?”

  I was surprised to realize that it was my cheeks that were wet with tears. I dropped my hands from your shoulders, gripping your fingers tight between mine instead, as I’d done in those treasured, quiet moments. I couldn’t think about that: not now and not after everything. “I’ve always sodding loved you.”

  Then you kissed me tenderly on my bruised cheek. “You think that I’d leave without you?”

  I couldn’t hold back the sob as I brushed my lips against yours like a goodbye…because I had to leave you.

  I would never be free from my Blood Lifer family — nor would Alessandro — until I faced its head: Aralt. And that wasn’t a battle that I could survive.

  You’d reckon that on the way to the scaffold or the front line, some deep thoughts on life, the universe, and everything would spark. Or maybe a moment of revelation or clarity, or else that there’d be some bleeding peace at the end at least. But then life’s not neat like that. It’s mundane for the most part and confused up to the final gasp.

  The interesting thing is that it’s no different the second time around.

  I waited for Aralt at the bottom of the staircase by the doors out into the clear winter sunlight. He was barely keeping nocturnal hours anymore. Our night-time living was to Aralt nothing but a weakness to be overcome; I was certain that he had scientists somewhere working on that too, just like our venom.

  As I tested the handle — up, down, up, down — tapping my foot with nervous energy, I tried to think only of you: my Moon Girl fallen to earth as my girl.

  I conjured the purr of your voice, the brilliant sparkle of you up on that stage, and those long nights, when I’d obsessed over your photo. Then, however, how much better the reality of your touch had been than I’d ever dreamed as I’d wanked whispering your name.

  After all, I might as well make my last memories on this maddening earth blinding ones, right?

  Yet I found, like water, that I couldn’t hold onto them. Instead, I kept blanking out, as my mind wandered to the buzzing of the flies, which collected in the ceiling’s corners, the sensation of the metal handle, and the stink of noxious smoke that was still sticky in my nostrils. />
  I lit up one last ciggie, drawing in deeply.

  Then I heard footsteps on the stairs but not a single pair: Aralt wasn’t alone.

  When Aralt strutted down, Ruby was magisterial on his arm, Alessandro scampered close behind, and Donovan yapped at his heels.

  “It stopped mid-broadcast, man. Not cool.” Donovan tried to grasp Aralt, but Aralt was still heading down the stairs without slowing. “You’ve got to sort it.”

  A couple more steps…

  I tossed away the ciggie, rubbing my hands together.

  “What has befallen my dearest prince?” Ruby stared at me in surprise. She stopped, assessing the damage; I must’ve looked a bleeding mess, but then Ruby didn’t know the state of my adversaries.

  I pressed my back to the door. Alessandro’s face was pale, as he cringed against the wall; his hands instinctively clutched over his ears.

  Christ, if he started to rock…

  I forced myself to breathe. “I know.”

  “Know what?” Aralt jumped the last two steps, before swaggering towards me.

  “About Radio Komodo. And Silverman.”

  Donovan glanced between us. I couldn’t read his expression, but there was enough confusion in his gaze to make me wonder if he’d been played worse than I had.

  I hadn’t been betting on that.

  But Ruby…? Her expression hadn’t changed at all. Of course she knew the truth when she shared a bed with Aralt.

  “Don’t hold out on me.” Donovan sidled closer. “It’s dead air and—”

  “Shut up.” Aralt’s gaze was intent on me as he flicked my chest. “You’ve been fierce bold nosing into my business. What do you know?”

  For the first time, I allowed myself to smile.

  This was it, when I brought Advance’s cardboard empire toppling, just like my life had been tumbled down. This nobody had teeth.

  “Everything,” I hissed. Aralt took one careful step back. “You want to control the First Lifers. And for what? Blood on tap? Are we predators or businessmen?”