Straight at Will’s heart.
None of us moved.
“Don’t,” I breathed. “just…please, don’t.”
I was meant to keep Will safe. He would be the life born from my fangs; I knew it, deep in my Soul. Yet because he wanted to be like me, all I’d done was put him in danger. Please, please, don’t let him die…I couldn’t force election on someone again…not after Sun…
Emo’s finger was pressing down on the trigger. The gun was going off.
Bang.
I threw myself in front of Will, in front of the gun…and the bullet.
I encircled Will with my arms, as we crashed to the pavement. Will howled, when I crushed his ribs but he was alive. I was flooded with simple joy, whilst I waited to die.
Will was sobbing and calling my name.
Angel of Light, Angel of Light, Angel of Light…
Then he slapped my cheek, and I opened my eyes.
What the sodding hell?
When I clutched at my chest, my hand came back clean: there was no gory crimson.
I twisted around to look up at that strangely blank expression on the Emo kid’s face.
Emo tucked away the gun. I had the feeling of being a bug under his scientist’s gaze. “Blanks. No bullets. Interesting reaction. How did it feel to face second death?”
I shuddered at his coldness. Who was he to play with me like this? The thought of further games that risked Will shot me through with terror.
Don’t forget me… Sun entwined around me like a steel snake. Her bite into my jugular was explosive rainbow end of days. I panted, squirming and gasping. Trapped in her embrace, I shivered. Then Sun snogged me, and I could taste my copper blood… Don’t forsake me…
I could feel the vibrations of Hartford’s anguished plea in his soulful song through every fevered atom.
We curled around each other on the cushions, which were piled on the lounge floor. Donovan was sprawled on the sofa, smoking wacky backy, serenaded by Hartford’s new routine for the club. But it was meant for him because one thing I knew...?
Love.
…Live for me…
Hartford was singing to Donovan: the dead bloke he craved to resurrect.
I twisted Sun, splaying her over the cushions. She laughed in surprise. I’d forgotten how young in Blood Life she still was. “My turn.”
I bit but gently. The moment when my fangs slid through her ivory skin was divine. Her blood was like coming home. Her body was quivering… Don’t forget me… and we were snogging, both our bloods bonded as one… Don’t forsake me… our hearts beating united… Live for me…
Crash.
The door splintered. First and Blood Lifers in balaclavas streamed in with guns.
“Bloody down.” I threw myself over Sun, shielding her. I couldn’t hear anything over the rat-rat-rat of gunshots. The sofa’s foam sprayed like snow.
Screams.
Christ in heaven, Hartford.
I glanced up at the dark shapes, like black ghosts, who were thronging through our flat. A dozen at least. Hartford was huddled by the wall, riddled with bullets. His breathing was labored, whilst crimson seeped down his white shirt. Donovan had dived from the sofa and was stroking Hartford’s cheek, snarling at the bastard, who had his semiautomatic pressed to Hartford’s forehead.
Enough was bleeding enough.
I stood up, straightening my shoulders. As if with a collective mind, the balaclava bastards turned their shooters to point at me. Apart from the one who had his trained on Hartford. “I reckon that there’s been a bit of a mix up, gents. So, why don’t you pack up and get your arses out of here. By the way, what type of Blood Lifer brings either a gun or a First Lifer to a fight?”
“That’d be me,” a smug voice called.
Bollocks.
Captain neatly stepped through our smashed front door, as if appalled to discover it in such a state. He brushed at his peak of strawberry blond hair: he still had the dimples.
Sodding baby-faced wanker.
“You’ve found an even more morally outrageous way of fueling your ambition at the Blood Life Council, than enslaving your own species?” I sneered. I glanced at Hartford, who was taking agonized gasps. How many times had they bleeding shot him? When I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, I hurriedly gestured for Sun to stay still. We’d seen what Captain could do; I didn’t want a repeat. “Like taking over the banks? Or going into coalition with the First Lifer Government?”
Captain sauntered in front of me; in sky blue jacket and shirt he was the only color in a sea of black. “I have a busy day, absolutely back-to-back with meetings. So, precious as you always are, let’s get down to it. Do you remember knocking out my tooth?”
For the first time, I smiled. “It’s one of my happiest memories.”
Captain returned my smile, and I forced myself not to shudder. “I’m so pleased because I’m certain that this shall be one of mine.”
A steel knuckleduster was slipped with practiced precision over Captain’s fist. “Fangs out.”
This time, I couldn’t stop either Sun or Donovan shooting to their feet. “Bloody well stay back,” I hissed at them.
“How cute,” Captain weighed us up one at a time; I felt like I was at a slave auction and remembered the file that Captain had written on my weaknesses to help the slavers capture me, “a Plantagenet has made himself a family.” He eyed Donovan. “Excuse me, two Plantagenets.”
“You want your tooth for a tooth? Then sodding well get on with it and stop boring us to death.” I clenched my fists. I couldn’t let the others see what it was doing to me to force out my fangs, knowing that they were going to be stolen from me again.
I glanced at Hartford. When our gazes met, I saw that he was silently weeping and I knew that it wasn’t from the pain: it was because he knew what this meant to me.
When Captain stroked my cheek, I flinched. “You see, I decide what happens. I’m in charge. If you can get with that program, well then, we’ll get on swimmingly. But for now? You need to take your punishment.”
Captain raised the knuckleduster. My fangs ached, and I screwed shut my eyes.
Bloody do it…
Then softly, I felt Captain’s finger tracing over each fang. It was…a violation.
My eyes snapped open.
Captain was watching the way that his finger outlined each fang with fascination. The knuckleduster, however, had disappeared. “I don’t need to take your fangs, Light, I already own them. Now since your firebug impression with the Blood Club (an administrative headache by the way), we’ve been at war. Terrorists have been inspired by your brutish example to free the remaining Blood Lifer slaves and to work against us at the Council.”
I blinked, still panting at the horror of Captain’s touch. “Terrorists? I don’t...?”
Captain caught my chin between his fingers hard enough to hurt. “You’re delicious when you’re playing innocent. But this is how I own your fangs.” He clicked his fingers.
Suddenly, two Blood Lifers snatched Donovan on either side, bundling him out of the apartment.
I jolted forward. “Don’t… Stop…”
One moment Donovan was there. The next? Gone.
Hartford trembled, as he screamed, “Donovan! Donovan! Donovan…” Until he made a lunge for the door, shredded guts and all.
“Want to see what a brain-dead Blood Lifer looks like?” Captain gestured at a minion, who pressed his gun to the back of Hartford’s head.
I grasped Captain’s arm. “Alright, you own me. Don’t shoot him. What do you want?”
Captain smiled: bleeding Cheshire cat. “The Renegades. Their leader served up on a platter, so that I can put them on trial for their crimes. You were asking about power? Well, a celebrity inquiry...? Now that’s power.”
“We’ve been keeping a low profile and not playing Spartacus. I haven’t even heard of these wankers.”
Captain shook me off him, before glaring between us: from me,
to Sun, and finally at Hartford. There aren’t many blokes who can hold a Long-lived’s gaze, especially one blazing with the type of grief and fury, which was threatening to sear Hartford open in more places than he was already shot.
It’s a dangerous thing to underestimate a bloke. Captain might be a babe to the black waters of Blood Life but he was a shark.
Captain shrugged. “If you don’t hand over the leader of the Renegades, then we’ll have to sacrifice Donovan in their place. Your call.”
“This is what you’re reduced to?” My voice was low and raspy with tears. “Joining forces with corrupt First Lifers? Bastard guns because you won’t dirty your fangs or fists? Kidnap?”
Captain tilted his head, considering. Then he slugged me in the gut. I coughed, doubled over. “I dirty my fangs and fists but only for pleasure.” He wiped his palms down his trousers, before slapping his thighs. “Best be off, busy, busy, you know how it is.”
When Captain pulled out his iPhone, I jumped. Then he jabbered into it, as if I was forgotten, even though he’d torn apart my family, destroying my home. His silent army trooped out after him.
Numb, I stared around at the shattered remains of our apartment: the door on its hinges, busted cushions, exploded sofa…and Hartford in a tangled heap of blood, tears, and impotent fury.
I fell to my knees next to him, Sun on his other side, as we wrapped our arms around him like we could absorb his pain.
Except, it wasn’t enough. Because one of us was missing.
I rubbed my cheek against Hartford’s hair as I rocked him. “We’ll get him back, I promise; I’ll get Donovan back.”
Family, you see, they do make you weak.
Except, what’s there in life, if not love?
Captain? What’s he ever loved except power?
Does he even love you, Liberty, or would he destroy you for pleasure, as easily as he intends to destroy me?
5
NIGHT 5
Love was always your greatest weakness, wasn’t it? Not family, loyalty, or obsession. Love: the fear of losing it.
Come on, Thomas, wake up. There are only nine more nights before your trial. You must give me something more than dead papas, homeless boys, and—
Kidnapped cousins? Sorry to bore you, sweetheart. How do you know my weaknesses flayed bloody? Seems like you’ve been reading Captain’s file on me.
Sod it, I’m right?
There were photos in there; Master got off on telling me. Naked ones of me: chained, collared, and leashed. Enjoyed them, did you? Had a good laugh? Or did you touch yourself instead?
Mr Blickle, I assure you…
Right cozy feeling to know that my torture and enslavement does it for you.
What would do it for me, would be some tangible evidence. I’m not like Captain, I promise. You dance around like a boxer. This is your second life, and I’m trying to save it.
I investigated, and you were right: you were being starved and sleep deprived. Plus, of course, you’re no leader for the Renegades. I believe you, and although I know that you won’t trust me, I’m trying to help you.
If you know that I’m innocent, I’ll be off then, shall I?
I told you, we still need our Spartacus. Yet I don’t like being tricked, as much as I do like a puzzle. So, take this as us no longer being on opposing sides
That’s what this is to you…a puzzle?
Isn’t it to you? A vast world of infinite puzzles? A continual search for a challenge worthy of that astounding brain, which you attempt to hide behind the banter? Come, we’re not so different.
I’ve been around for over one hundred and fifty years, which is much longer than you. I’ve learned a few things, like when you struggle, sacrifice, and finally open that puzzle box, only to find that it’s empty...?
Then it wasn’t worth one single bleeding thing that you lost.
Silence. Crimson. Cold.
I couldn’t stop shivering. Water trickled down my back, through my soaked t-shirt. When we’d dashed out of our flat into the rain, I hadn’t even paused to grab my leathers.
Hartford’s body gaped with wounds, like an abused voodoo doll, scarlet against the pale. He lay motionless on the top of Aedan’s bed, in the flat above Peter Pan’s. He looked so small on the grand four-poster, underneath the mosaic of Adam reaching (and failing) to touch God’s outstretched finger. Hartford’s damp hair was as golden as the walls.
Hartford stared at the ceiling, but he didn’t even blink. For a horrifying moment, it was like we were back at Abona House, and he was laid out after some sadistic john had got his jollies from shooting holes in him.
Aedan hovered at my shoulder. All things considered, the chat when we’d turned up as if out of a war zone, hadn’t been as awkward as it could’ve been.
“What gobshite did this...?”’ Aedan’s green eyes gleamed as he waved into the bedroom. He was whispering like Hartford was merely sleeping. “So I can castrate him with my teeth.”
“You’ll have a bloody long queue.” I patted Aedan on the back. “Cheers for this and sorry for…”
“Not being human?”
I shifted. Before Will, I would’ve been shamed for my lack of humanity but not since he’d accepted me just as I was. “Never for that. I’m sorry for lying, missing work, and getting blood all over your bed.”
“No bother, I’ll dock your wages.” Aedan grinned, slapping my arse.
I could hear Aedan nattering to Sun, as he tramped downstairs. There was the stink of pigs’ blood — alien, thin, wrong — after breaking abstention. Hartford wasn’t up to sinking his fangs into me, however, for his fix, so the twenty-four hour butchers it was.
Hartford would heal but only if he drank.
I perched next to Hartford, sweeping my hand through his hair. “Hey, helmethead.”
Not a flicker.
I tried again. “Tasty blood…alright, pigs’ blood…but it’ll take away the pain.”
Still nothing.
I leant closer. My clothes stuck to me, as tremors shook me. I couldn’t think of Donovan with Captain…or what Captain was doing to him.
My predator roared.
My fangs were owned. Again. I was an idiot to think that I could be free; we were none of us free. Donovan was abducted, whilst Hartford was silent and unmoving.
Frustrated, I threw myself up from the bed. “This isn’t bloody good enough. Snap out of it.”
Nothing.
Furious, bubbling, impotent rage, which had been repressed from the moment that Captain had slipped on that knuckleduster, whilst holding a gun to Hartford’s head, erupted. I swung my palm.
Slap.
Shocked, I stared at the crimson handprint on Hartford’s motionless doll cheek.
“You’re a Long-lived,” I growled. “Sir didn’t break you. Master couldn’t. After all the ways that they hurt us at Abona, you protected every slave. Then you tore those First Lifer bastards apart, remember? You. I know that this hurts; I’m bleeding out here too. You need to transform that pain to rage because what we did to the Blood Club will look like child’s play by the time we’re done with the Blood Life Council. I promise. Right now? It’s fangs and fists, not the time to hide. Please, Hartford?”
And then…? Hartford blinked. He saw me; he heard me. He was a Long-lived once more.
“What’s the plan, mac?” Hartford’s voice was croaky but determined.
There was a sound in the doorway; Aedan was behind me. He’d heard. At least…enough. He simply slipped to Hartford, however, his braids swinging over his cheeks as he pressed a mug of blood to Hartford’s lips like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Confused, I no longer knew who was predator or prey: Blood or First. I did know, however, that my family was made up of both species.
Yet both species united, we had to discover the terrorist Renegades before the Blood Life Council sacrificed Donovan.
“Grayse Cain, upon my Soul. Where the frak have you been?” Fernando (per
fect prat that he was), glared out of the screen at the Internet café.
In checked shirt, which was buttoned up to the top and backlit by a tech lab of computers, which were glowing as if they’d bloody invented sunlight, it was like Fernando had been trapped in amber: unchanged from when he’d helped us take down the slavers.
Maybe the whole world was in amber, and it was only Sun and I, under the false light of the café’s computers, who’d moved on.
Evolved.
Grayse Cain had because now she was Sun, only Fernando didn’t know that…yet.
Sun shifted next to me on her plastic seat — squeak, squeak — as awkward as I was. “Hey, ‘sup Prof? I know that this is fried, but we had to book it out of there that night and…”
“You forgot my number?” Fernando’s mouth was twisted like he wanted to twist something else. By the way he was casting these furious glances at me, I reckoned that it was my neck. “Like I’ve just been sitting on my thumbs waiting...?”
“Shut your mouth,” I snarled. To my shock, Fernando actually did. “There are bigger and more deadly things happening here than your petty pride. We had to keep safe.”
“Whoa, calm down there, little man.” Fernando fluttered his long dark eyelashes, as if he was the reasonable one. All right, point made. “Why were you hiding?”
I bristled. I hated that he called me the same name that I used with Will. “Don’t call me little man.”
“Can’t you tell?” Sun leant in closer to the computer. The bustle and chatter of the café was suddenly too loud; the blue of the street lamp reflected through the glass was too bright. The sweaty stink of the teenagers, who were pressed up next to us intent on their fantasy multi-player game, was too powerful. Sun licked her lips. How was she getting off on this? “Your family were mine on account of I was alone in Harvard. Your cuz? He was like my brother. But would they have me over for a keg party now?”
Fernando pushed himself closer to the screen as well, as if he was able to climb through it. “You’re one of them…?” He hissed.
Rebel Vampires: The Complete Series Page 64