“You’re a shitty liar,” Lauren said, rolling her eyes. She moved swiftly passed him and out the door. “You better not stand too close. If I die, I’m taking you with me.”
Clive heeded her words and walked a few paces back. Lauren walked down the main staircase, turning towards the dungeon. As she swept through the dungeon corridor, she came face to face with Julian. Everything around her was an almost blinding white, walls, floor, ceiling. They stood in a hall with four closed doors on all sides. Clive had not bothered to follow. She was alone with Julian.
“You sent for me?”
“I did.”
Lauren stood for a good while, waiting for Julian to break the silence. After several moments, she grew impatient. “So, are you gonna tell me what’s up, or what?”
“Kneel.”
Lauren gave a whisper like chuckle. “No offense, mate, but the days of me getting on my knees are long gone. Especially not for y—”
He words cut short, Lauren was buckled over by a sharp backhand. It had happened so quickly, she barely noticed blood from her torn lip splatter against the wall. Within seconds, the shimmering red stain was soaked into the whitewashed wall, as if the surface had drunk it in. Lauren scrunched her eyes as the force of Julian’s grip squeezed her throat, his strength lifting her off the ground.
“You are an enigma,” Julian said, furring his eyebrows as with a mere flick of his wrist he sent her into the wall, “Thinking that you can speak to me in such a way, in my domain. I, who have done so much for you.”
Lauren gathered herself and wiped some of the blood trickling out of her mouth with the back of her hand. “What the fuck have you ever done for me?”
Julian suddenly had keys in his hand, as if swiped from thin air. He gestured to the door, nearest his right side, “Come forward and see.”
Lauren paused as he opened the door.
“If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so long ago. Though it is still very much an option, given your attitude.” Julian frowned imperiously at her.
Lauren poked her head around the corner of the doorway. Within the room was a cage, roughly eight feet high and enclosed, filled with three men standing huddled together.
“So what the hell is this?”
“Many things,” Julian replied wistfully, glancing over the cage. “Let’s start with money for me, revenge for you.”
“Revenge?” Lauren asked. “What revenge? I’m not killing some strangers for you to make money.”
“Ah, that’s right. You’ve never been properly introduced. But they know who you are. They also knew Ryan Teeran.”
Lauren jerked her head back toward Julian, piecing things together. Ryan, her former boyfriend, who had sold her out to the vampire community for money. Ryan, who had filmed them having sex and posted the videos online. Not just any website, his own personal dark fantasy website. Where people would bid on different subjects and what should be done to them. In her case, it was to be transformed, but first being fed on during sex. She remembered something Ryan had said once. “Three guys feeding on you at once.”
Lauren focused harder on the occupants of the cage, taking a step forward, lowering her chin.
“Them?” she asked Julian, not keeping her eyes off the cage. She didn’t recognise their faces, but something about the way they slinked back, putting more distance between her and them, told her what Julian said was true. Or maybe it was the way they all looked at her, each one with the same sense of rage and yet…regret? No, fear. Lauren stepped closer and curled her fingers around the bars.
“It took me a good while to find them all, but once I did, I thought they would do nicely for our little game,” Julian said, beginning to encircle the cage, trickling the key along the bars as he went.
“What game?” Lauren seethed, as hatred from the pit of her stomach started to boil. Julian prattled on; he had bet money with the other occupants of the house… These prisoners would be released into the grounds… Lauren would be timed hunting them… Julian had bet seventeen minutes…
Blah blah blah. Lauren barely heard or cared. They hadn’t turned her, but they had helped violate her. Fed off her while she screamed for help; salivated over her taste, celebrated her tears as levels of accomplishment. Only to wipe my memory and have at me again a few days later. They were predators, having broken her down, viewing her as their entertainment.
Lauren slammed her palms against the bars and screamed as her fangs extended. Her throat ached as a crackling gargle escaped from it, something like the low, rumbling growl of a cougar. The three men gave a short, collective shudder even as their own fangs snapped out, challenging her. The sound strengthened her, reminding her that she was no longer human. Human and society’s rules did not apply to her. She was a predator too.
“Ready?” Julian asked.
“Wait,” Lauren said, letting go of the metal. “What do I get after this?”
“What do you get?”
“Yeah. After I turn these cunts into she-males, what then for me?”
“What more could you possibly want besides revenge and to ensure my happiness?”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “Hey, that’s really great. I want freedom. I’m sick of you keeping me trapped in this place and barely feeding me.”
“What makes you think you are trapped? I barely feed you? As a human, were you such a useless, disease riddled whore that you can no longer function unless a man presented you with treats after your holes had been used?”
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Lauren felt her muscles grow rigid with rage.
Julian laughed out loud. “You think anyone will stop you from leaving? You are drastically mistaken. Leave if you wish. Go. The night is waiting for you. So are the sun and the hunters. What will you do? Where will you go? You’ve lost the only friends you had. Your family thinks you’re dead, and to all intents and purposes, you are. But go to them. Go to your parents who have undoubtedly moved on with their lives. They will know what you are eventually, and then we will come for them. My father’s word is law; they join us or die. Oh, yes, young one. You will leave and discover you cannot survive without us. This shelter. Our home—your home.”
Julian closed the distance between them and indicated the prisoners in the cage. “Destroy them,” he whispered hoarsely. “Win my bet, and I’ll give you a generous reward.”
“How much?”
“Enough!” Julian placed one hand inside his sleeve and pulled out a small wooden container, almost like a small spice rack. In it were four small vials of blue glowing liquid. “All you have to do is take this to Luca at Coffinail. Tell him there is more coming. He will present you with a payment. Bring it back to me and you will have your share. If you survive tonight of course.”
Lauren took the spice rack and pocketed it in her jacket as Julian unlocked the cage door. She took a few steps back, knowing she was supposed to give them a head start. With a flick of his wrist, Julian flung the door open and the three inside bolted out, disappearing quickly around the corner. Lauren had barely taken a step when she was halted by Julian.
“What now?” Lauren hissed.
Julian repeated his earlier command. “Kneel.”
“Are you kidding me? You want to stop and fuck around with this now? What about your bet?”
“Teaching humility and one’s place is worth all the money in the world,” Julian replied.
Lauren turned her face to sniff in the direction of her prey. They were still in the mansion as the doors had probably been bolted, but still, she wanted some action. With a grunt, she lowered herself to one knee.
“Is this not simpler, to just obey?” Julian asked. He ran the tips of nails in an almost tender gesture down her cheek. “You have potential, but your Aussie spirit will still need to be broken it seems.”
He stepped away and Lauren rose, moving towards the doorway. “Seventeen minutes you reckon?”
Julian nodded.
“I’ll do it in ten.”
You can break my Aussie spirit as it’s giving you the finger, arsehole.
Chapter 10
Countdown
Nick sat fidgeting in the counsellor’s office. Three days into his new school life, this was the time Principal Parkins had arranged for Nick to meet the school counsellor Mrs. Davies, after missing her on his first day. The door opened and a woman he assumed to be Mrs. Davies had walked in with a small boy.
“Hello, Mr. Slade. I’ll be right with you,” she said, before turning to the boy, stating gently, “Just sit there next to this young man, Ms. O’Brien will be here shortly.”
Mrs. Davies disappeared around the corner, into her office. Nick caught the boy looking at him. The kid looked about eight or nine, no more. He was long in the body but there was nothing of him. Wilson would’ve said he needed a good feed. Curls of overgrown dirty blonde hair stuck out from under his school cap like weeds, the straps of his backpack were missing buckle, and his black shoes sported one white shoelace. This kid’s parents needed a serious wakeup call! No, I shouldn’t judge. It’s not my place. Who knows what his home situation might be?
“Hey, buddy, my name is Nick. What’s yours?”
The boy dropped into the designated chair and continued to stare unmoving, merely blinking away the question with the saddest expression Nick had ever seen. Nick didn’t think it was that the kid was deaf, because he hadn’t been looking at Mrs. Davies when she asked him to sit next to Nick. Better leave him alone. He doesn’t seem interested in chatting, Nick thought. Something was definitely wrong with the poor little guy.
“Well hello there!”
Nick looked up from the boy to find the one person he’d been waiting to see, looking at him and grinning.
Like a reflex action, Nick shot up out of his sitting position, and managed to flip his chair over in his attempt at politeness. “Oh…uh…hi.”
Nicole simply smirked, and turned her attention to the younger student. “Come on, Zachary,” she said, taking him by the hand. She led the boy past Nick, picking up his chair on her way. “Let’s go inside.”
Just as Nicole disappeared around the corner, Mrs. Davies reappeared with several files and shut the door behind Nicole and Zachary.
“All right, let’s see,” Mrs. Davies said thoughtfully, seating herself behind the desk.
“I thought your office was in there?” Nick pointed to the room Nicole had just disappeared into.
“Oh? No, that’s just an old broom cupboard we’ve converted into an office for Ms. O’Brien.” Mrs. Davies spread some of the files out in front of her. “Well, Mr. Slade, let me first welcome you to the school. And I apologise for starting late.”
“It’s no problem.” Nick smiled.
“It’s always nice to have some international flavour to our student body. I understand you’re from England?”
“I am, yes, but my mother is Australian.”
“Ah, delightful,” she replied.
She seemed perfectly friendly, but her words felt more like well-rehearsed lines than sincere thoughts. He got the impression that she had maybe once loved her job, but for whatever reason had perhaps fallen into a rut and now treated every student pretty much the same, just with slightly different, but recycled questions.
“Well, as you may or may not know, this is just a preliminary check to see how things are going with you and if you have any concerns or questions I might be able to help with. Does that seem clear so far?”
“Definitely,” Nick replied.
“So firstly, let me ask, do you have any questions before we begin?”
“Actually, I was wondering about Nicole,” he said, gesturing with his thumb behind him.
“Oh?” Mrs. Davies looked over the tops of her glasses at him, clearly taken aback. “Uh, I may not be able to help with this particular enquiry. What is it you would like to know? I should warn that I’m not really at liberty to reveal anything about her personally, if that’s what you were hoping for.”
“No, no,” Nick assured. “It’s just that I’m intrigued. She doesn’t look older than me yet she is clearly not a student here. I was just wondering what her role is?”
“I see,” Mrs. Davies said, nodding her understand and relaxing somewhat. “Well, I suppose you could say she is a counsellor’s assistant, for want of a better phrase.”
“Isn’t she a bit young for that?”
“She’s nearly twenty. She graduated two years ago and is currently studying psychology. She volunteers here on her days off to gain some experience. She deals only with the younger children in the school, who feel more comfortable talking to people closer to their age. She isn’t qualified to diagnose problems, but she can bring potential issues to my attention and I can seek out any required solution at that point. She was one of the most popular Head Girls the school has ever had. The younger children love her, and feel they can trust her. Her initiatives helped raised almost $15,000 for them in her last year.”
“Initiatives?”
“Like raffles, talent shows, fetes and the like, to help raise funds for the school. She’s actually organising the school end-of-year party, I believe. But she’s always gone above and beyond in helping others. Just last year, she called round to some catering and equipment firms and organised for better ovens and freezers for the canteen to be delivered. All in her own time, all for free.”
“Wow! How did she manage that?” Nick pressed.
“We called it the O’Brien manoeuvre.” Mrs Davies smiled. “She went to see the companies on the half days she had here and took one of the youngest children with her. I was never there, but from what she told me, it was always a lot more difficult to say no to someone face to face than on the phone. Especially if they had a cute child to introduce them to as well—one of the many that would benefit so greatly from their generosity.” Mrs Davies laughed. “No one ever said no to her. Most were probably guilt tripped into it, to be honest, or admired her spirit, and others…”
“Others?” Nick asked.
“Were hoping to get a date I suspect. But that’s none of my business. Unfortunately when some parents got wind of this, they made a complaint, so we couldn’t let her continue.” Mrs. Davies stiffened a bit, cleared her throat and jotted down some notes.
It was clear there might be a bit more to this story. Nick said nothing, wondering why at that very moment he felt such a sudden rush of anger.
“Wow,” was all Nick could say.
“Yes, but we aren’t here to talk about her, are we? Shall we move on?”
Nick felt the heat of embarrassment flushing his face. “Yes, of course.”
“So, how are you finding the school so far? It must be completely different to what you are used to. I’ve only ever heard wonderful things about Albert Hall.”
“It was a good school,” Nick nodded. “It had excellent facilities, but it was never really my favourite place in the world.”
“You had troubles there?”
Surprisingly, Nick found her question to be quite genuine now. Perhaps he had been too quick to judgment. She was likely just tired of saying the same thing over and over. One probably couldn’t help sounding robotic and rehearsed. Now that she was faced with a potential problem, Mrs. Davies seemed to liven up.
Nick thought about his wording, trying to think about the things that really pissed him off about Albert Hall. “Annoyances more than anything, I’d say. I find most rich kids to be superficial and boring.”
Mrs Davies lifted her eyebrows. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but, aren’t you considered a rich kid?”
Nick gave a half-smile. “I suppose so, but I never felt like one, and I definitely hated being treated like one. I think that’s one of the reasons I really didn’t like going to Albert Hall. Students there are expected to act a certain way, even by the staff.”
“What way would that be?”
Nick thought about this. “Like the world owes you a favour, I guess. I never fit in there.”
“So are you saying you prefer St. Andrew’s?”
“So far, very much so.” Nick didn’t bother hiding the eagerness in his voice.
“That’s interesting. Most people who have had your experience wouldn’t say the same, I’d bet.”
“I’m not most people.” Nick shrugged. “I think those who live with almost everything can learn a lot from those who survive with next to nothing.”
The door to Nicole’s office opened, and young Zachary emerged, closing it again behind him. Looking as dreary as before, he walked outside without a word. The bell rang signalling the start of the final hour.
“Well, if you could take these forms home with you to fill out and bring them back in tomorrow? Just for our records.”
“No problem.”
Nick made rather heavy work of leaving. He opened then closed his bag, eyes flicking towards Nicole’s door before finally slinging the knapsack over his shoulder and walking out. She obviously wasn’t making an appearance just for him. A few steps up the walkway, he found Zachary on his knees, several books splayed on the concrete. The boy’s backpack had split.
“Hey there, Zachary. You need help? I hate it when that happens,” Nick said, kneeling down without waiting for a response. He reached for the books and Zachary lowered his hands and let Nick assist him. Without a word passing between them, Nick re-organised the books and put them in the second still-intact compartment of Zachary’s bag.
“There we go,” Nick said, zipping it up for him. “That should hold till you get home.”
Zachary took the bag and looked at Nick, confused. To put him at ease, Nick said with a laugh, “Hey, don’t worry. It happens to all of us.”
Zachary continued to stare with a look that was difficult to place, and then turned around slowly and walked away.
“That was very sweet.”
Nick looked up and saw Nicole standing there, indicating to Zachary with her eyes.
“It was nothing,” Nick replied earnestly with a wave of his hand, climbing to his feet. “He seems really down.”
“Yes, he is down. Poor kid.” Nicole walked past him, heading towards the main stairwell. Nick followed and matched her pace.
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