“I’ll go,” offered Evie. Varsee blinked at her. “I’ve been food shopping before, back when I got cured. I sort of know what I’m doing. I’ll take him. Get him out of the house.”
At this, Varsee blanched. “I should stay with him.”
“I’ll look after him. I promise. He’ll start to think you’re coddling him. And he might retreat more into himself.”
The stiffness in Varsee’s spine relaxed and she wilted a little. “Okay.” She nodded. “Okay.”
Evie smiled with triumph, but having Varsee loosen her grip on her brother was a victory that quickly turned sour. Evie had just agreed – no, insisted – that she’d take out the empty shell of Alexander that was seething by the fire - alone. She had found it difficult to converse with Alexander back when he was a prissy motor-mouth.
But just as dread began to slowly seep into the marrow of her bones, she was struck by laughter from the living area. Varsee’s head shot up like a meerkat and she flew through the door. Evie followed, slightly dazed. Robin was standing by the mirror on the wall, vigorously scrubbing his upper lip. His eyebrows were crunched with displeasure but the quirk of his lips gave away his glee.
Alexander was hanging half over the arm of the armchair, his lower body curled up and his hand pressed against his laughter-clenched stomach. A clear tear ran down his cheekbone.
Robin turned to Evie and lowered his hand. A black smudge was smeared under his nose but beneath it were the clear lines of a drawn on curly moustache.
“Alexander drew on me while I was sleeping.” Robin pouted, pointing accusingly at Alexander like a child snitching on his troublemaker sibling.
Alexander’s laughter diffused but his cheeky grin was still fixed on his face as he gave Varsee an overdramatic shrug.
“I had to keep myself busy somehow. It was so boring in here with all youse lot comatose,” said Alexander in a tone that made him sound more like himself. It had Evie’s muscles uncoiling. This was the Alexander she knew. “At first I thought of recreating Weekend at Bernies and have you all sat around having a tea party but I didn’t want to risk throwing my back out lugging you lot down the stairs. So, voila.” He gestured to Robin with magician hands.
“You came into my room while I was sleeping.” Robin sent him a pointed look.
“Relax, it’s not as if I was going to walk in on your touching yourself or anything. You were out cold. It was like a bloody funeral home in here. I had no idea vampires looked so creepy when they slept.” He shuddered.
Alexander was already speaking like he was detached. Clearly, he wasn’t in the denial phase anymore. Evie wondered if the humour meant that he was adjusting to being human or just trying to soften the blow.
Varsee seemed to be following Robin’s lead. Her frown showed bemused disapproval but her eyes and her gait showed ease and relief.
“Evie’s taking you shopping,” she said.
Alexander blinked and twisted his head to Evie. “Really?”
“Food shopping,” nodded Evie. “When do you want to go?”
Alexander’s lips upturned into an expression of surprise and acceptance. “Ready when you are,” he said whilst rolling off the armchair and jumping to his feet. Dressed in red leather trousers and a black silk shirt, he looked like a formidable demon king.
“You could have carried me,” said Alexander as Evie was still familiarising herself with the interior of Mrs. Braverman’s Clio.
“I’m not carrying you. And besides, what about when we’re coming back? I wouldn’t be able to carry you and the shopping.”
A blaring light catapulted right into Evie’s retina and made her squawk with sudden pain. Alexander quickly jabbed the button of the interior light off again. He’d started fiddling, too.
“Well we could steal a trolley and then you could whizz off with me and the shopping.”
“And probably derail somewhere and you’d end up flying off and getting stuck in a tree.”
Once Evie got the hang of things, they were easing out of the unused garage and rolling down the driveway. “How did you even get here anyway? From Nico’s. It’s like, on the other side of the city.”
The country road was far less scary driving as a vampire. The pitch darkness had ebbed to a manageable grey, like a film of fog over the moonlight drenched scenery.
“I got a ride from a vampire,” replied Alexander, now rooting through the glove compartment.
Evie’s forehead scrunched with confusion. “You got a lift from a vampire? How did that happen?”
“I went into a vampire bar and asked for a lift. Vampires are the quickest mode of transportation. It was pretty easy really. I gave them an offer they couldn’t refuse.” He winked.
Evie sat silently for a moment, piecing his words together. “By getting a ride from a vampire… do you mean you actually rode a vampire?”
“Sure did.” He grinned. “Most terrifying piggyback of my life. You know, they should have it as an extreme sport. I hurled up a few times in the hedges before I knocked.”
Evie remembered quite clearly the ugly motion sickness she’d experienced from riding on the back of Caius when she had been human.
“Well, that was a ballsy move.”
“It’s not like they were going to want to bite me anyway, apparently I reek something foul. Well, my blood does.” His tone was matter of fact, as if he was talking about something as mundane as getting his haircut. But Evie noticed that he hadn’t sat still for the whole ride and was keeping his face hidden from view. “But Ridley didn’t want my blood.” He snickered quietly. “He really wasn’t shy.”
Evie gave him a sidelong look. “What happened?”
Alexander chewed his lip with an impish grin. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”
“You’re no gentleman.”
He cackled. “You’re right, I’m not. Well, let’s just say I’ve got bruises on my knees and they’re not from scrubbing the floor – Oh! Bublé! Who knew the old prune had good taste in music?”
She glanced down and saw that Alexander was holding a CD. “You like Bublé ?”
“Who doesn’t like Bublé?”
Alexander popped the CD in and Beautiful Day blasted out of the speakers. Evie felt his posture stiffen beside her. She glanced over subtly to see him staring at the speakers with a lost look of horror. He jabbed a button and silence washed over them.
“I thought you liked Bublé?” asked Evie.
He ran his fingers through his hair and stared out of the window. “Too jolly.”
Her heart sank and she winced at the acidy taste in the back of her throat. He’d relapsed again. She was really hoping this shopping trip wasn’t a bad idea.
Alexander was out of the car before Evie had even put it in park. She watched as he jogged across the car park without even looking, making two cars slam down on their breaks, barely managing to miss his shins. Evie chased after him after fumbling about trying to lock up.
She found him by the trolleys. “What the hell are you playing at? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“Got any change?” He spun to her, holding out his palm. “Need a quid for the trolley.”
Grumbling under her breath, she delved into her purse and passed him the coin. He slotted it in and away they went, Alexander cruising down the aisles with the trolley while Evie inspected the shelves, squinting a little at the harsh light.
“What exactly do you want to get?” she asked. “Maybe we should have made a list.”
“I dunno, grab whatever. I’m heading to the alcohol. I can finally get pissed.”
He ran off down the aisle, the wobbly wheels of the trolley clattering noisily across the floor.
“Hey! If you’re just getting booze, at least leave me with the trolley!” She jogged after him.
Spinning round, Alexander pushed it back in her direction before taking off again. One would think he didn’t want to be around her. Or anyone for that matter.
There weren’t t
hat many people in the supermarket due to it being after dark. And in winter, after dark was anytime passed four. This caused a little problem for Evie. Without having someone to follow and copy from, she was overcome with the sense of being a tiny fish in a massive pond. The aisles seemed to span for miles and there was just too much variety. How many different types of bread can there be?!
As Evie strolled down the aisles with a white-knuckle grip on her slowly filling trolley, she wondered if Alexander had actually gone to find the alcohol or that had all just been a ploy and he’d ditched her. Panic hurried her steps as she followed the signs hanging from the ceiling, eyes darting every which way. She misjudged a corner and the trolley skidded along the linoleum, taking her with it. Thanks to her vampire reflexes, she was able to right herself quickly and paused at the sight of Alexander. Four bottles were on the floor by his feet as he inspected more labels.
“Don’t you think you’ve gotten enough?” she asked, rolling towards him. He grabbed a four pack of cider and dropped it carefully into the trolley. She watched as he silently added the bottles by his feet, his face an expressionless mask.
“You look like you’ve done well. You think I’d like any of that shit?”
She looked down at her half-filled trolley. “I hope so. I got lots of cakes. Enjoy them for me.” She smiled. He didn’t. Instead, he just nodded towards the direction of the tills.
“C’mon.”
Alexander silently helped Evie load the shopping onto the conveyor belt before drifting off, looking distracted. He was inspecting the cigarettes behind the counter.
“Mate,” he said to the cashier. “Grab me a pack of Malboro Gold, would you?” Just as the man swivelled in his chair to grab them for him, Alexander shook his head. “No wait. Nevermind. Gotta start looking after myself now.” He laughed, an empty, airy sound. The cashier looked at him expectantly. “Grab me some nicotine gum instead. Any will do.”
When the man grabbed a packet, scanned it, and hand it to him, Evie saw Alexander’s expression crack as if the man had handed him the most precious thing in the world. His lip wobbled slightly before he wiped his nose with a sniff and stuffed the packet in his pocket. “Cheers, mate.”
Evie pretended not to notice when Alexander clearly looked over to see if she was looking. She bent her head and carried on stacking.
He helped her carry the bags to the car, one bag for every four that she was juggling with because she still had her vampire strength. He had said it jokingly but she had felt the bite of bitterness beneath it.
They made their way back home in silence, Evie’s eyes on the road and Alexander’s out of the window with his chin rested on his fist. He wasn’t doing well and it was going to kill her to tell Varsee. She had looked so hopeful.
There is no room for optimism in this world. Caius’ words hung in the air. She wished she could dash them away like annoying buzzing flies. But maybe he was right. Hoping was just setting yourself up for disappointment.
Even for a nostalgic vampire like Evie, who missed the sweet variety of human food, had to admit that the concoction Varsee was offering her brother did not look appetising. Everyone’s face, besides Varsee’s, was scrunched with disgust as they eyed up the thick green liquid in the beaker.
“What the hell is that?” Alexander jammed his elbows into the arms of the armchair and hoisted himself up a little for a closer inspection. “It looks like swamp goop.”
“It’s a fruit smoothie,” said Varsee with bright-eyed pride. “Made from scratch. It’s healthy.”
Alexander’s eyebrows fell into a serious line. “It looks like it’s going to kill me.”
“Just drink it while I whip you up some food.”
He took the beaker and sank back into the armchair with it nestled on his lap. Varsee watched him for a moment before disappearing back into the kitchen.
Evie was sitting on the sofa, trying her best not to stare at Alexander. She hadn’t told Varsee the truth when she had asked how their shopping trip had been. Evie didn’t want her to worry any more than she already was. So, Evie had told her it was fine and had left it at that. It made her feel ill, lying to her Maker. The intensity of the wrongness about it was like the slash of a whip across her deceiving heart. But it had been a white lie, one told for the greater good.
“Hey, look!” Robin grabbled for the remote and unmuted the TV which had been on for background entertainment.
They all looked to the screen now, leaning in with interest. The News was on and an interview was currently taking place via split screen. Evie didn’t recognise the man who was being interviewed but she felt a chill like a cold hand pressed against the nape of her neck as she read the scrolling information underneath.
“So, Dr. Weilms, is it true to say that you were the head of this entire operation?” asked the female interviewer from behind her desk.
The man, a healthy-looking silver-haired gentleman of around sixty, squinted in the breeze as he replied from an unknown outside location, “Yes and no. I had recruited a team to work on a project that would have benefited the entire world. What Dr. Nico Bergan had continued to do in my absence was not what I had set out to do.”
“But you were still funding his work, isn’t that right?”
“I had a close member of Nico’s team updating me on what was occurring. It appears now that he had been giving me false information so that I would keep the project up and running.”
“This person you are speaking of is Joseph Turner, is that correct?”
“Yes. That is correct.”
“Yet he was the one who came to the police about Dr. Bergan’s offences. He told us that Dr. Bergan was threatening the life of someone he loved so that Joseph would withhold information from you.”
At this, Dr. Weilms took a heavy, wincing gulp. “That is correct.”
“Thank you for speaking with us, Dr. Weilms,” said the interviewer before his side of the screen was pulled away. She focused on the camera, her face a fixed, trained expression of tight sobriety.
“So, there we have it. It appears that as Dr. Weilms, founder of the of this hidden project, was none the wiser as his prodigy, Dr. Bergan, had been secretly attempting to cure vampirism by kidnapping them and injecting them with home-cooked serums. I think we can speak for most people here when I say that his success would be a gift to us all. And fortunately, he was successful.”
In the corner of her eye, Evie saw Alexander’s grip on his beaker tighten.
“Apparently, the scientist was able to successfully cure thirteen vampires, turning them back human. He had been holding them in his mansion for surveillance and routine testing before they broke loose. Dr. Bergan was left for dead. Luckily, one of his colleagues was able to save him just in the nick of time and now Dr. Bergan is being placed in an undisclosed safe location.
“Now, we have Lady Sylvia from the Vampire League here to give us her opinion of this story.”
The interviewer didn’t even attempt to hide her contempt as she looked up at the screen in her newsroom which displayed the prim, blonde vampire behind her huge mahogany desk.
“Hello, Joanne,” said Lady Sylvia, with lack of warmth.
“What is the Vampire League’s response to all of this?”
“Well, of course we are outraged. Not only has this doctor been experimenting on our kind but, now that he has been found out, is not even being sentenced for it? He tortured people! He should be behind bars!” Lady Sylvia’s nostrils were flared with anger and her eyes were steely and cold as she stared into the camera.
“This Dr. Bergan was doing something to help your kind. To return you to your old selves. You should be thanking him, surely?” said Joanne, her eyes sparkling with mirth.
When the camera cut back to Lady Sylvia, she had collected herself somewhat but anger was still tight in her features. “From Joseph Turner’s accounts, we know that twelve out of the thirteen cured vampires were forced. They did not want the cure. In fact, there had orig
inally been fourteen of these ‘Cured’ but one had committed suicide because of what Dr. Bergan had done to him. Does that sound like he was helping them, Joanne?”
Evie’s eyes flickered back to Alexander, remembering how he had quickly brushed over the fact there had been another ‘Cured’. Alexander’s hand was now over his mouth, as if trying to cover up as much of his face as he could.
Joanne smiled. “I thought you’d be more concerned about what these Cured are carrying around in their blood. A virus that could possibly wipe out the entire vampire population.”
“Only if they had the desire to do so, which is incredibly unlikely seeing as they didn’t want the cure themselves. These people are victims. The only way their virus would be spread is if they were forced by human authorities. The virus cannot be transmitted from human to human, it must be injected in its purest form, all of which has been destroyed.”
“But the blood could infect vampire blood banks.”
“And that is why my people are currently trying to find them. We have their information from Dr. Bergan’s files.”
“And what are you planning to do when you find them?” Joanne cocked her head with patronising intrigue.
“We must mark them with a brand that will become universally known so they cannot deposit blood in vampire blood banks and cannot be accidently consumed in vampire bars.”
“But I thought you just said they wouldn’t want to do such a thing?”
“We must evaluate all risks, just in case. And like I said before, they could be forced.” Lady Sylvia sent the camera an accusatory glare, directed at Joanne. “But we shall be keeping an eye on them, protecting them from such things.”
“It sounds to me, Lady Sylvia, that you are accusing the human race of propositioning chemical warfare.”
“Is it such a stretch to the imagination? Dr. Bergan has already set it in motion. I am just saying that we must stamp it out before things get out of control and we have another world war on our hands.”
“I see that as a rather drastic way of viewing things.”
“Drastic? This whole world is drastic. Vampires can’t leave their homes without having guns pointed at them from every angle. I’m being realistic. That’s the most saddening thing.” Lady Sylvia leaned back from her desk and shuffled about her papers, clearly trying to calm herself down. “This shall go no further. Dr. Bergan must not be allowed to practice anymore of his nonsense. The thirteen Cured will be the first and last. The virus dies with them.”
The Progeny Page 54