Death's Dark Horse

by Ruby Loren

  Gregory raised an eyebrow. “What happens if you stop?”

  January had known he would ask that, and she didn’t have a good answer. “Whoever it is that’s in control of it all must have a lot of power at their disposal. I suppose I’d be killed.” She shrugged and found Gregory’s face was just inches away from hers.

  “And you’re not willing to die for me.”

  His grey eyes were solemn, but January could see a few threads of gold leaking out.

  “Forget it, you can’t glamour me.” She turned away, annoyed that she’d taken him seriously for even a moment. “Just be grateful you’re not dead already.”

  “Why is that? I gave you plenty of opportunities.”

  January remembered the meeting in the forest and then when she’d been alone with Gregory in the back alley by the pub. “They were both traps?”

  “No, they weren’t. With hindsight, it was probably a mistake, but I hadn’t seen you in action. I thought my knowledge would be my sanctuary.”

  January glanced down at the leopard again, so she wouldn’t have to see Gregory’s face when she said the next part. Her gaze was caught by a paw and she frowned briefly. “Where do we go from here? I still need to kill you, Gregory.”

  He opened his arms wide. “Do it then. I think I’d already be dead if you were going to. There was no better time than when I was in chains. Even though they weren’t silver, it would have taken me time to escape.”

  January looked up from the leopard. “I know. I was just repaying a debt I owed. You saved me from Lewis.”

  Gregory actually smiled at the memory. “The demented drummer.”

  January glanced at the leopard’s paw again and saw a claw twitch. Post-death muscle spasms? She wasn’t so sure.

  “Right. But now we’re even, so you’d better start running.”

  Gregory stuck his hands in his suit trouser pockets and tried not to laugh. “I should start running? I could kill you in two seconds right now.”

  January knew he was right - but he hadn’t - in the same way she hadn’t killed him earlier.

  She sighed. “I know. I just thought that if you appeared to be running away and I followed you kind of slowly, but ineffectively, nothing bad would happen.”

  “That’s a terrible plan. We’d be on the move forever. I think you should - to use a turn of phrase - grow a pair and refuse to kill me on… personal grounds.”

  “They’ll just send someone else. After they get rid of me.”

  That much was obvious to her. She might be rare, but there was no way she was the only one out there killing vamps. She’d tried to find out, once upon a time, but vampires didn’t exactly broadcast obituaries and they never shared any more information than the bare minimum. She’d given up looking.

  The leopard’s claws twitched again and January felt a familiar sucking of energy.

  “He’s not dead,” she warned Gregory.

  They both eyed the cat as its body changed and Luke lay naked on the floor in front of them. January was far more pleased than she should be to see that Luke’s perfect, reddish-blonde hair was all over the place.

  “I think you broke my skull,” a muffled voice said.

  January noticed that his head did look a funny shape – sort of dented on one side. It served him right.

  He pushed himself upright in a fragile way, and she was surprised to see his skull forcing itself back outwards as she watched. Even for a shifter, that was fast. She was all too conscious of the livid scratch marks on her face. Luke shook his head and the last dent just popped out.

  “Came with the witchcraft. I’m glad I took the time and did the spell now,” he added.

  January looked across at Gregory, wondering why Luke was being so civil. It was unnerving.

  “What I don’t understand is how you can stand up to it when you obviously have no idea what you’re doing.”

  “Has he ever been this nice to you before?” Gregory asked.

  “Only when he used to stalk me at the tearooms. Maybe he’s got brain damage or something.”

  Luke got to his feet, shakily. January felt the usual awkwardness she always felt around other shifters when they were, well… completely naked. Others of their kind didn’t seem to mind it, but to be fair - she’d led a pretty sheltered life.

  Her parents had kept her away from other shifters as soon as she’d started to change when she was fourteen years old. It was probably the one good thing they’d done for her, although January often wondered if it wouldn’t have been better if they’d just let everyone know the truth. Maybe then she’d have had help in discovering whether or not there were any others like her and if it had ever happened before. What had caused her to be born the way she was?

  Gregory walked over to the bar and pulled out an apron, throwing it to Luke, who put it on. It didn’t help much. Now he just looked like a stripper.

  “I’m not brain damaged, I’m resigned. I do know how to lose. After all, no one believed me when I said my sister had been murdered. I let it go. Eventually,” he added.

  January pulled a face. “Remind me again where the guy you accused of killing your sister is right now?”

  “Dead. I killed him when I took over the pack.” Luke laughed. “His mind turned to mush. I think his brain actually started leaking out of his ears.” He kept laughing and January felt the hairs rise up on the back of her neck.

  Luke suddenly seemed to sober up. “That was when I learnt magic - after she died. I think I already had some of it in me, though. Not as much as you do, but some. You can’t just learn to do what we do.” Luke moved forwards and January stepped away. His eyes seemed to sparkle with madness. “We could make the strongest pack ever.”

  January tried to hide behind Gregory. “Whoa, okay… crazy super villain talk. Listen, Luke, you’re probably going to be ripped apart by the pack for what you’ve done. I’m not up to speed on pack law, but I’m guessing plotting with a vampire and breaking whatever treaty you had with Gregory is probably punishable by death. Plus, they don’t like you,” she added.

  Luke actually looked surprised. “You’re the leader now. You get to decide.”

  January chewed her lip some more. She didn’t want to admit to Luke that she had no intention of taking the leadership because if she did that, he’d move right back in. He had to go, one way or another. “Leave,” she said.

  Luke shook his head. “What?”

  “I said, leave. Run away, Luke. Start somewhere new. Leave the country. I don’t ever want to hear your name again. That’s the best I can do. It’s that, or you die. I can’t have someone like you around. Rest assured, if I do hear your name for whatever reason, I will find you.”

  She felt like Scar from The Lion King. It was rather apt given who she was talking to. She even looked like scar right now with her torn up face. She just hoped Trace would be grateful. She was doing this for her. It was penance for the car accident and the way she’d suspected her. She hadn’t been the one who’d betrayed her. That had been her own blood.

  Luke frowned like he didn’t understand and took another step towards her. Gregory automatically stepped in the way, his fangs bared.

  The fog seemed to clear from Luke’s vision. He shot her a look full of regret, before stalking out the door. January sensed that this might not be the last she heard of Luke Bingley and wished that she’d had the will to bring this chapter to a neater close.

  “Don’t tell me you actually have feelings for me?” She said to Gregory.

  His fangs retracted. “That would be ridiculous,” he said and decisively swept towards the front door of the pub.

  It was only after Ryan had arrived out of the blue to pick her up, and they were driving home, that she realised he hadn’t actually answered the question.

  20

  January was woken up by the sunlight streaming through her bedroom window. It told her she’d slept through her alarm. It was then that she remembered she hadn’t set it because her phone
was broken. Heck, there’d been times last night when she’d thought she’d never need to set it again.

  She pushed the covers back and almost trod on Ryan, who had fallen asleep on her floor. She looked down at his oddly peaceful face, mismatched with the tattoos that covered his body and the white scars which marked his back.

  Her forehead creased. I’ll have to ask him about those sometime, she thought and then shook it from her head. There wasn’t going to be a ‘sometime’.

  He’d managed to find some trousers to replace his torn ones. One of the shifters must have had a spare pair. She tried to pretend she didn’t feel a little bit disappointed and swung her legs out of the other side of the bed.

  Ryan arrived in the kitchen when she turned on the coffee machine. She gestured with a mug and he nodded, looking just as tired as she felt. While she waited for the coffee to brew, her hand automatically felt her face and discovered that the claw marks were still in evidence. That was a pain. Perhaps Luke had magic claws as well. If she was permanently disfigured, she would definitely track him down and kill him.

  “What happened to Luke? Did he get away?”

  She could tell Ryan was looking at the marks on her face. She was amazed he’d kept his questions to himself for so long. The drive back from Witchwood had been silent, and she’d been grateful for it.

  She poured the coffee, thinking carefully about her next words. “He must have done. There were vampires about to kill Gregory. I couldn’t stop him,” she said, not exactly lying.

  She hoped that Ryan would assume the ‘claw marks’ were from a vamp.

  Ryan nodded but she’d seen his face change when she’d mentioned the head vampire.

  “I forgot, this note came through the door just after you crashed out.”

  He sounds way too cheerful, January thought. She cautiously took the slip of paper.

  I’ve decided to leave. Do whatever you can.

  Gregory.

  Her eyes flicked over the two line note several times, wondering what had given him the change of heart.

  “Is he gone for good? Where do you think he went?” Ryan asked, stepping up behind her and looking at the note again.

  “I hope I never find out,” she said, unthinkingly.

  Ryan went to the fridge and fetched the milk. Then, he started talking animatedly about the pack and what changes could be made. January half-listened as he told her about the cats that wanted to leave and suggested that she didn’t make membership as compulsory as Luke had. That was putting it mildly, January thought.

  Her eyes were caught by the clock on the wall and she realised she should have been at work two hours ago.

  “Damn,” she said and hunted around for her phone. Oh yeah - Jo had stamped on it. She wondered if the landline was still disconnected and was willing to bet it was. “Ryan, can I use your phone?”

  He handed over his mobile, looking slightly worried.

  She shot him a smile. “It’s just work. I’m really late,” she explained as the tearooms’ phone began to ring. ,

  “Hi Charlie, it’s… Yeah, I know. I’m sorry you thought I was dead. I was pretty ill in the night and completely missed my alarm this morning. I’m so sorry…okay… thanks for not being angry. I’ll come in tomorrow,” she said, meekly, her voice sounding just as fake as it always did when she tried to pull a sickie.

  “I feel terrible.” She sat down at the kitchen table and sipped her now-lukewarm coffee.

  “About last night? Are you still hurt?” Ryan asked, his face all worried.

  January wondered if he’d seen the previous pack leader with their brains leaking out of their ears.

  Probably.

  “No, about letting Charlie down. Matt’s dead and now I’ve probably just left her on her own with Lucy. I’ll be leaving her soon, anyway, to go back home. It just feels so mean and ungrateful.” She sighed.

  “Back home? To your parents?”

  “No. Heck, no. Hopefully they’ll disown both Jo and me when they find out about last night.”

  Ryan frowned and looked even more confused. “So, where then?”

  January opened her mouth and closed it. She’d been about to say Paris, but that would be the first place her mysterious employers would look for her. No, she couldn’t go home after all.

  “I don’t know. Somewhere that’s not here. Maybe Greece,” she said, plucking a destination out of thin air.

  “You can’t. You’re the pack leader. You can’t leave.” He stood up, rubbing his arms anxiously.

  January snorted and shook her head. “Just watch me.” She stood up and pushed her stool back, walking towards the front door and jerking it open. The small black cat - who had evidently been hiding somewhere inside - rushed out. She’d have to sort him out before she left - although the cat seemed pretty able to take care of itself.

  The sun was shining and the day still held the last lingering scent of the early morning freshness, even though it was ten o’clock.

  She threw on a coat and slipped into some trainers, hoping that Ryan would get the message.

  He didn’t.

  He put on his own shoes and followed her outside, like a helpless puppy. He was still topless, she noticed, and felt her stomach squirm.

  “I’m not your leader,” she said, stopping and turning to face him in the driveway. “I didn’t want to join the pack before, when Luke was in control, and I still don’t want to be a part of it now. You’re on your own. It’s better if I just stay away from other shifters. It’ll be good if you all forget what you saw, too,” she added.

  Ryan walked closer to her. “You don’t have to hide around us. We accept you and you’ll always be safe.”

  January suddenly felt full to the brim with emotion. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. Her parents had always warned that people would want to take advantage of her, or put her on display. When she’d met Luke, she’d assumed they were right.

  “I’m not hiding. I’m just saying I’m not the right person for the job. I do my own thing. I can’t lead.” She looked at Ryan’s worried eyes and thought she could see a solution. “You be the leader. You’d be great at it! You really care about everyone in the pack and know who everyone is. I hereby hand over the pack to you. Does that do it?” She asked.

  Ryan looked stunned. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “There might have to be witnesses, or something, but don’t do this, January. It could be just what you need.”

  January shook her head. “I don’t need anything. You don’t know who I am, Ryan. You don’t know anything. Just go and tell people what I’ve said. Go and be the leader they deserve.”

  She turned away and kept walking.

  When she looked back, twenty metres later, he was gone from sight. He must have gone through the woods, she thought, and carried on walking, not really knowing where she was headed.

  Her feet carried her to the park where she’d met with Trace. She hoped that Charlie wouldn’t happen to walk by. It was a foolish worry, given that she’d be upping sticks and leaving soon. She ran through a list of things she still had to do and found nothing enjoyable. Too bad. That was what being an adult was all about.

  She sat down on the park bench, suddenly aware that she was still wearing her pyjamas underneath the coat. How had she got into them last night? She didn’t remember getting out of Gregory’s shirt. January sighed and figured it must have been Ryan. It made her feel even worse for being so mean to him. It wasn’t his fault that this had turned into such a mess.

  She was so deep in thought that she didn’t even hear the crunch of autumn leaves when someone came up behind her.

  “You saved the vampire.”

  January spun round and glared at her sister. “You must be stupid, or you would have been gone by now,” January said, coldly.

  Her sister shrugged and sat down on the bench. “I’m going. I’ve wanted to go for ages, so it doesn’t matter to me.”

  January looked across at Jo, wh
o looked the same as ever – made up and dressed in a fifties style blouse with a pencil skirt.

  January wondered where she’d spent the night.

  “I’m not the one you need to tell it to. I’m not here to clean up things with mum and dad. That’s your job.”

  Jo tried to look all innocent and worried, but January had already seen the flash of annoyance. “Forget it. You sold me out last night and you gave away my secret before then. I could have died. After everything I’ve ever done for you,” she said.

  “You’re fine, so everything worked out okay. I knew it would. I always had faith.”

  January shook her head, unwilling to listen to anymore of Jo’s weak words. “I don’t want to see you again,” she said, feeling like she was outside of herself watching her lips form the words when she said it.

  Jo kept her eyes fixed on the ground for what seemed like forever. “Fine,” she said, after an age. “I’ll talk to them.”

  She stood up and left and January felt this weight lift from her. The guilt was still there, but she crushed it and instead enjoyed the sensation that Jo might finally have taken something she said seriously. Her sister seemed to have no idea that she’d almost been responsible for her death. Perhaps, in time, she’d come to understand. Perhaps, in time, she’d find a way to apologise. Until then, she hoped she’d go far enough away. The pack would want her dead for breaking the vampire treaty. She hoped Jo had enough sense to realise that truth before she went round saying goodbye, but she probably didn’t.

  “Maybe I handed the leadership over a little too soon,” she said aloud, thinking that her sister may not have a chance to getaway. It isn’t your problem! The voice in her head - that was still justifiably furious with Jo - screamed.

  “Good, because I still think you’re the right unicorn for the job.” Ryan appeared out of nowhere and slid onto the bench beside her.

  January refused to smile at his good humour.

  “I talked to some pack members. They think I’m just another Luke. I didn’t stand up to him - you did. They respect you.”