by Helen Harper
Her eyes gleam with mischief. ‘We should sneak out. Hit the town. Have a little fun.’
Nicky is shocked. ‘Leave the house?’
Nell punches her arm. ‘Live a little! We’ve been toeing the line up till now. We deserve a break.’
I try to assess whether she’s serious or not. I’m surprised by how much I want to agree. Getting out of the stifling atmosphere of the Montserrat house might just be the tonic I need. Besides, by staying here all I’m doing is delaying the inevitable. Whether I’m executed first, or the Families all fall, the results for me personally will probably end up the same. I need to clear my name on the outside as well as here. This might be my chance to do both.
‘We only have training until 2am,’ I point out. ‘Then we’re free.’
‘It’s breaking the rules.’
‘Not the real, serious, “we will execute you” rules.’
Nicky gives Nell a suspicious look. ‘How do you know?’ She doesn’t make explicit reference to Nell’s pre-turning comment about stealing but it hangs unspoken in the background.
‘What were Ursus’s exact words? Do not go out in the sunshine. You must live in the Montserrat House. There’s nothing to say that you must stay here trapped like a prisoner.’
‘I like the idea,’ I say, decisively. It’s about time I took matters into my own hands again. And something to do will take my mind off the gnawing hunger leaching from my stomach into the marrow of my bones. I continue, ‘It’ll be pretty late by the time we can escape but I know just the place. The bouncers don’t ask questions and we’re unlikely to bump into any vampires.’ We may bump into a lawyer of dubious intentions, though.
‘No.’ Beth shakes her head firmly. ‘It’s too dangerous.’
‘How can a few dances and some tequila shots be dangerous? We’re vampires now. It’s not as if we need to be concerned with cirrhosis of the liver.’
‘It’s not drinking tequila that worries me,’ Beth mutters.
She flicks me a worried glance, as if she thinks that I’ll pounce on the nearest human and sink my as-yet non-existent fangs into their carotid artery. Why she has decided to pick on me instead of the younger and frailer Nicky, I have no idea. She should be more worried about me finding the evidence I need to prove her guilt – and my innocence.
‘Don’t come if you don’t want to,’ I tell her airily. I’m fairly confident she’ll join in but for once I don’t care. My gaze falls upon Peter, sitting morosely in the corner. He’s the only other person apart from Nicky, Beth and me who’s not yet partaken of the salty red stuff. Somehow I don’t think it has anything to do with wanting to become a powerful vampire. ‘In fact, safety in numbers. Let’s ask Peter along.’
Nicky’s face twists but Nell grins agreement. ‘Brilliant!’
Less than two hours later, the five of us gather next to Montserrat’s portrait. His dark eyes make me feel guilty so I turn away. Everyone has decided to come – even Nicky; it’s just as well that she’s with us as she appears to be the only one who kept her credit card when the rest of her things were taken. I have no idea where she normally hides it – perhaps under her own water jug – but I’m glad we’ll have money to buy some drinks. There would be nothing more depressing than getting to the nightclub and realising we couldn’t pay our own way.
‘How exactly are we going to get out of here?’ she enquires.
‘Shhh,’ I whisper, tentatively stepping down the path towards the towering perimeter wall.
The night is cloudy, although there’s enough of a wind to reveal the crescent moon from time to time. Its gleam is heartbreakingly tiny. I’m torn between needing more time to do some proper investigating and wishing it was already the full moon so I could make my escape.
We skirt round the edge of some bushes and duck under the low hanging branches of an apple tree. There’s a muttered curse from behind and, when I twist round to see who it is, I spot the lapel of Peter’s jumpsuit caught in one of the twigs. His fingers scrabble at the offending branch but he only succeeds in getting more tangled. A scowling Beth traipses back to help with an exasperated sigh. She just succeeds in freeing him when a large shape flies overhead, cawing loudly and making us all leap in fright.
‘What in hell was that?’
I scan the sky, squinting. ‘A crow, I think.’
‘There’s a sodding reason why it’s called a murder of crows,’ Beth grumbles.
I watch her sullen expression, wondering what’s making her so pissed off. It’s possible she’s annoyed that we’re venturing into the outside world because it implies a lack of control over us on her part. Or is she worried that she’ll slip up and give the game away? I can only hope.
We push forward, eventually reaching the wall. It’s high and made of sturdy red brick. Someone, probably the gardener, clearly pays it almost as much attention as the plants, as it’s moss free and well kept. This is unfortunate; a few crumbling spots would make it easier to find footholds. Beggars can’t be choosers, though.
We edge along until we find a suitable tree to help us gain height. I reach up, pulling myself onto the nearest branch, then shimmy upwards, using the strongest part of the branches where they meet the trunk as safe places to hold my weight. Nell, irritatingly, just scampers up the wall in a flash and sits astride the top, grinning down at us all.
‘You see? You lot should quit with all your posturing and take some blood. You’re going to do it sooner or later. And once you do, climbing up something like this is a piece of cake.’ She flexes her muscles while I mutter under my breath and push myself higher up the tree.
Once I’m as high as I can go, I look over at the wall. It’s still three feet away. I sidestep towards it while the branch creaks menacingly under my weight. I’m not convinced it’ll hold me. Nell casually extends an arm. ‘Just jump, Bo,’ she tells me. ‘I’ll catch you.’
I’m doubtful about this. I know from our training sessions that she’s by far the strongest of us and I like to think that I keep myself in shape but still, it’s a long way down. The others are catching up on me, however, and if I show signs of nervousness then neither Nicky nor Peter will jump. I need to get out of here and it’ll look better for me if I’m not alone when I do it. I couldn’t give a shit about Beth. A tiny part of me hopes that she falls. That’s mean, but I can’t help it.
I edge a little bit closer.
‘Do it,’ Nell urges.
I draw a deep breath, holding the air in my lungs, and then I leap. Initially, everything seems fine and I’m gaining height. It’s barely a fraction of a second, however, before my body starts to fall. Nell’s hand seems too far away and I‘m certain I’m not going to make it. Panic sets in and I shut my eyes tightly, waiting for the inevitable pain. I misjudged Nell’s reach though and, before it’s too late, her cool hand grips my sweaty one and pulls me upwards.
She heaves me up until I’m lying on my stomach, my legs dangling down one side and my arms down the other. I force myself up, twist round to a sitting position and try not to gasp too obviously for air.
Nicky is now in position on the tree’s branch. She looks pale. I bet when she first entered the Montserrat house, she never thought she’d soon be climbing trees. How strange it must be for her to have control over her legs after being in a wheelchair for so long. I shuffle along so that she has enough room and give her an encouraging smile.
‘It’s okay,’ I whisper. ‘Nell’s got vampire strength.’
She shakes her head. ‘I can’t do this.’
‘Of course you can. You’re taller than I am and I did it,’ I urge.
She bites her lip and pushes her hair away from her face. Then she jumps. This time, I watch Nell. She stretches herself out a few inches and grabs hold of Nicky, as if she were merely catching a frisbee. Even the muscles of her forearms don’t appear tense as she yanks up Nicky’s slight frame. Considering Nell has been fully vampired for less than five days, I’m terrified. How much stronger will the other v
ampires be that I’m up against? If I get caught in a fight with them, I’ve got no chance. Maybe I should just go ahead and drink some damned blood.
I scoot further along the wall with Nicky alongside me. Beth makes the jump irritatingly quickly. She has a lithe athleticism that’s hidden by her façade of bottle-blonde hair and sharp red fingernails. I try not to scowl. Peter also leaps without seeming to worry about it. He seems almost disappointed when he makes it, as if he’d hoped to fall and break his neck.
‘So, clever clogs,’ Beth says, once we’re all safely perched on the wall, ‘how in smeg do we get down?’
She has a point. The Montserrat garden may be full of trees to aid the climbing process but the other side is a gaping chasm leading down to the grey cement of pavement.
Nell pushes herself off, landing squarely on her feet. ‘I’ll catch you.’
I look nervously at Nicky. This time our order is reversed, with Peter going first. He’s the heaviest of all of us, and Nell staggers slightly. There’s no problem though and, one by one, we make the jump down. When my feet are on solid ground, I take a deep breath. I’m strongly tempted to bend down and kiss the pavement in gratitude. I look back at the wall.
‘It’s going to be a lot harder to get back inside than it was to escape,’ Beth says, echoing my thoughts.
‘Let’s worry about that when the time comes,’ I say. I’m not sure I’m coming back. I don’t have any doubts that Montserrat will find me in a heartbeat but hanging around until he decides to execute me isn’t really much of an option.
‘There’s a cab!’ Nicky calls suddenly. She leaps into the road and hails it.
The driver is unenthusiastic about having five passengers but Nell grins at him, displaying her growing fangs, and he hastily changes his mind. It’s so late that the streets are quiet and we make it to the club quickly. Perhaps I can get used to this night-time living after all.
The bouncer at the door is the same one as last time. I have no idea whether he remembers me or not but fortunately he seems more taken by our matching midnight blue jumpsuits and Beth’s killer heels than our faces. We trip inside and, while Peter and I wince automatically at the loud music, the others perk up.
I scan around, hoping that D’Argneau is here. Unfortunately the stools by the bar are empty and he doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who’s down for a boogie on the spangled dance floor. I’m disappointed My main purpose in coming here is to quiz him again; without his presence this is a wasted trip.
Nell, it seems, has an entirely different idea of wasted on her mind. She beckons the bartender, ordering a bottle of vodka and a range of mixers. Ever the one for detail, she even makes sure there’s a bucket of ice. Nicky appears blasé about handing over her credit card to pay for our drinks. I’m not sure I’d allow Nell free reign – not at London prices – but once we’re settled at a table and sipping at our glasses, I start to chill out. No, I shouldn’t rely on alcohol to settle my nerves but damn, this is a drink I’ve been waiting for.
Unsurprisingly, Beth’s lip curls. ‘It’s not the kind of establishment I normally frequent.’
The buzz of alcohol almost makes me throw caution to the wind and tell her exactly what I think, but Nicky interrupts before I do.
‘I think it’s cool. It’s been a long time since I had a girls’ night out.’
Nell’s eyes gleam. ‘This is what being a vampire is really about. Having fun and damning the consequences.’ She takes a long swig of her drink. ‘I wonder if vampires get hangovers.’
Nicky clinks her glass against Nell’s. ‘Only one way to find out.’
‘We’ve only got about two hours until we head back,’ Beth cautions. ‘We can’t risk getting caught when dawn breaks.’
I’m surprised that she sounds so schoolmarmish. ‘I’d never have thought you were a stickler for the rules.’
‘Those rules exist for a reason,’ she snipes back.
‘Yeah? And so are the rules about there being only five Families.’ The words are out of my mouth before I’ve had time to think and they hang there while Beth frowns at me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was confused.
‘Rules shmules!’ trills Nicky. ‘Let’s dance!’ She pulls Nell up by one arm and a reluctant Beth by the other. Eyeing me with a mischief I’ve not seen in her before, she jerks her head towards the small dance floor. ‘Come on, Bo.’
I glance at Peter. He’s muttering to himself. ‘I’ll stay with the party animal here and keep him company.’
A flash of something I can’t determine crosses Nicky’s face, then she shrugs amiably and guides the other two off, immediately flinging herself into the beat of the song. This is a side of her I’ve not seen before. I guess she didn’t have much opportunity to go out and dance when she was in a wheelchair. Bless her. Nell seems keen to match her energy although Beth, surprisingly, looks awkward. Her expression makes me think that she’d rather have her blood red fingernails pulled out one by one than dance.
The colour of Beth’s nails brings me back to the topic that never seems to be far from my mind. I look at Peter, whose fingers are drumming fretfully on his collarbone.
‘How are you doing with the whole blood avoidance thing?’
‘Huh?’
‘Not drinking. You, Beth, Nicky and I are the only ones who’ve yet to drink blood. The thought makes me feel queasy but I’m finding it harder and harder to not have some.’
‘So why don’t you?’ Peter’s voice is mild and lacking in curiosity but I still feel compelled to answer.
‘I want to be a powerful vampire.’ I force a hollow laugh.
He looks at me over the rim of his glass. ‘Bullshit.’
I’m shocked. ‘Peter, I’ve never heard you swear before.’
‘Well, I’ve never been a vampire before.’ He pours another a shot. ‘I’ve been watching you, Bo. You don’t want to be a vampire. There’s a part of you that’s disgusted by anyone who is.’
‘That’s not true!’ I protest.
‘Yes, it is,’ he replies quietly. ‘You told me your reason for being here. I can’t help thinking it’s bullshit. Are you sure you’re not really here for revenge?’
I am, just not in the way that he thinks. I wonder how to talk myself out of this. He continues before I can think of anything smart to say. ‘It’s a powerful motivator, you know, but it won’t make you feel any better. It’s not a dish best served cold. If you’re planning revenge, you’re better off digging two graves, not one, because it’ll kill you in the end.’
‘I’m not doing this for revenge,’ I tell him, trying to sound sincere. ‘I suppose I don’t really want to be a vampire after all.’ I hope that the half truth is enough to appease him.
He sighs heavily. ‘I feel the same. I can’t help wondering if I’ve made one of the worst mistakes in my life.’ He looks at me frankly. ‘You’re not telling me everything but, for whatever reason, you’re trying to become Sanguine.’
I’m surprised that he’s even heard of the term, let alone linked it to me. He laughs softly at my expression. ‘I did my research before I signed up.’
‘Then you know how hard it is to resist the urge.’
‘I do.’
‘Are you doing the same? Are you trying to become Sanguine?’
He laughs again but there’s a cold, hard edge to it. ‘No. Much as I wish I’d chosen a different path, I’m already damned, Bo. I deserve all this.’
I’m about to ask him what he means when I notice a new customer stroll in. My back stiffens immediately. Lo and behold, it’s Harry D’Argneau.
‘So he’s why we’re really here,’ Peter comments.
I shoot him a look. ‘Peter, I’m sorry…’ Guilt blazes through me. Whatever Peter is going through, it’s obviously hell. If things were different then I’d do whatever I could to draw him out. But I need to talk to D’Argneau and get my pound of flesh. My clock is ticking.
Peter pats my shoulder. ‘It’s okay. I underst
and.’
I don’t think he really does. ‘Look, I won’t be long. I just need to talk to that guy for five minutes. It’s really important.’
He doesn’t appear hurt and gives me a gentle push. ‘Go on. Do what you have to do.’
‘You’re not even curious, are you?’
All I receive in return is a half-hearted shrug. ‘I’ll be back,’ I promise. ‘This won’t take long.’
I grab an empty glass and fill it with ice and vodka. A peace offering might help my cause. Then I walk up to D’Argneau and tap him on the shoulder. He turns and, as soon as he registers my face, his eyes widen and he steps away. I hold out the drink.
‘Please, Harry.’ I keep my voice soft. I’m pretty sure he’s trying to decide whether to run away or not so I try to appear as small and unthreatening as possible. It must work because his muscles relax and he peers at me. ‘You look different.’
‘I’ve been recruited,’ I tell him.
He freezes. ‘Which Family?’
‘Does it matter?’
He grabs my shoulders and grips them tightly. ‘Which Family?’ he repeats.
My eyes scan his face. ‘Montserrat.’
His shoulders slump.
‘What? What’s the problem?’
He takes the drink and throws it back in one swift gulp. ‘You’re an idiot, Bo Blackman. That’s the problem.’
Chapter Twenty-one: Red Sky in the Morning
D’Argneau guides me to a small table at the back where we’re hidden from view. I’m glad; the last thing I want is bloody Beth interrupting. We’re also further away from the speakers here so there’s less need to bellow into each other’s ear. There’s always the possibility that when you do that you’ll be caught out during the abrupt breaks between songs.
‘Talk to me,’ I tell him, once we’re seated.
He raises his eyebrows. For the first time, I realise that they’re tweezed into perfect arches. ‘You’re the one in the Montserrat heartland, Ms Blackman, you should know. Although if you’ve only just been recruited, isn’t it a little odd that you’re out and about?’