Vampire Huntress (Rebel Angels Book 1)

by Rosemary A Johns

  The two blokes stood panting, scowling at each other across the shadowy concrete space.

  I’d screwed up our truce.

  For the first time, I truly realised the ancient war I’d stumbled into.

  ‘These,’ Ash held up the handfuls of Rebel’s blood tipped grey feathers, ‘are medals of honour, not shame. A traitor like you doesn’t deserve to wear them.’

  When Ash tossed them to the floor like dirty snow, Rebel shrank back.

  ‘How’s that not fighting working out for you?’ I growled at Ash.

  ‘Not great since I met you, Violet.’

  Sharp barks: Blaze and Spark’s signal for the arrival of Eden’s midnight-blue limo.

  I shot Ash a last warning glare, before rushing to the ledge. I peered down over the playground towards Tower Block B.

  The building blazed with light, as if every Pure had woken alongside their humans to welcome the celebrity.

  Rebel hugged his broken wing to his stomach. ‘I don’t mean to give out here about our chances, but I can’t fly at all now, since some great idiot wounded their own side.’

  I dropped to kneel in front of the laptop, tapping wildly as I hacked the fire alarm system.

  A shrill alien beeping echoed out through the night. ‘Anarchy told me fire is Eden’s weakness.’ At Anarchy’s name, Ash’s expression finally softened. ‘And I promised to burn down their house, just like they burnt down yours, wallad.’

  Rebel glanced up at Ash. The two men studied each other warily, before nodding.

  ‘And we’re nuking them into orbit from here…?’ Ash asked hopefully.

  I stood upright: lightning and thunder streaked inside me. A storm that exploded the violet fire hissing down my arms and across my palms.

  This time, it was both vampire and angel shrinking back.

  The shifting powers inside howled warrior.

  I grinned. ‘Bitch of Utopia is home.’

  ‘Bitch of Utopia is fierce frightening,’ Rebel whispered.

  ‘And hot,’ Ash muttered.

  I fired flames at the ground between their feet, and they danced back. Then they shot each other a smile, before remembering they hated each other and scowling.

  The storm died down. But static still fizzed along my skin. Supercharged, the savage sides to me had never felt so close to the surface before.

  ‘We have to show up the Utopia Project.’ I studied the bleak concrete and purple Tower Block B. ‘If it fails it won’t be copied around the world.’

  The fox brothers’ eyes gleamed in the dark, their claws skittering on the concrete as they prowled to stand sentry at my side.

  When I peered down at the playground below, residents were milling around in dressing gowns, wrapped in thick duvets or wool coats over bare legs. Kids swung on the swings or spun on the merry-go-round.

  In silence.

  Why were they outside in the middle of the night?

  ‘It’s like The Walking Dead.’ When Rebel blinked and cocked his head, Ash struggled to hide his smile. ‘Catch up on the box set classics at least, angel.’

  ‘The Pure are guarding them,’ Rebel pointed down, into the shadows.

  Faces with star sharp eyes were caught by the moon’s pale rays.

  The Pure patrolled amongst their humans — food supply — alert and…anxious?

  They glanced over their shoulders, casting long looks out into the shadows between the tower blocks.

  This is it then, the final curtain.

  And what’s your choice? Fill me in. Because from my fabulous throne, I can see you about to take on an army of the Pure.

  For humans.

  The same humans who abused, abandoned, and treated you as a freak.

  Now tell me this is a punchline to a lame ass joke.

  Gizem saved me. She’s trying to save her sister. And she’s in that tower block.

  Anyway, what could be better than going down in a blaze of glory?

  I scanned the vampires. ‘That can’t be all of them.’

  Ash shook his head. ‘I can sense they’re out of the rooms, but some are blocking the stairs, guarding the way in and out. Except for one floor. And that’s Pure HQ.’

  I knew the number, before Ash said it: eleven.

  Gizem’s floor.

  I whirled on Ash. ‘How do we get in there?’

  Rebel backed away, fiddling with the skull chained to his bondage trousers. ‘That won’t be a problem, princess.’

  My heart pounded. Inky spots danced in front of my eyes. I couldn’t breathe.

  I launched myself at Rebel, grabbing his t-shirt between my fists harder than I’d intended. Then I slammed him against the wall.

  Rebel gasped as his injured wing cracked. He pushed back, but stilled when Blaze snarled warningly.

  ‘You always said I didn’t trust you.’ I spat. ‘Except now I do, and you’ve turned Judas?’

  Rebel quivered, his hands fluttering, as if desperate to touch me, but not daring. When he finally answered, he collapsed back against the wall in submission, ‘The Brigadier was right. I can sense the Fallen now. And that means—’

  ‘They can sense you.’

  Rebel’s betrayal booted me in the gut. The bastard had known and he’d hidden it.

  When my hand heated around his throat, branding as I choked him, he didn’t struggle.

  Instead, his gaze was…disappointed.

  But he didn’t struggle.

  Hurt me, kiss me, burn me…

  My vision cleared, and I pulled in raspy breaths. I pressed my lips to Rebel’s, as my fingers scorched.

  ‘Save your fire,’ Ash wrapped his arms around my waist, gently pulling me back from my stranglehold. Rebel bent over, clasping his seared neck. ‘The angel is a muppet,’ Ash’s gaze was hard. Yet I realised with a jolt that he was pissed with me. ‘But I hoped you were better than that, Violet. And by the way?’

  There was a thunder of running footsteps either side of the walkway.

  Three female members of the Pure — fangs and claws out — in snarling attack mode and matching silver sequin evening dresses like they were on the red carpet, bowled us against the ledge.

  I blasted a skank with neon pink lipstick shrieking in a blistered heap.

  Ash ducked another’s claws and mouthed over his shoulder, ‘Told you so.’

  Rebel drew Eclipse, struggling to swing, as a harpy with platinum curls and high heels stomped on his boot, and then sank her fangs into his broken wing.

  Blaze and Spark circled, snapping at the vampire’s thin ankles.

  I jerked her head back by the bleached roots, dragging her teeth out of Rebel’s brutalized wing.

  But when something pronged jabbed into my neck, I lost my grip.

  Electricity thrummed through the stun gun.

  I gasped as my body cramped. A juddering current tore the muscles down my back and neck. I overbalanced onto my tiptoes, hunching my arms closer around myself against the pain.

  Bang…bang…bang…

  The pressure dropped away, along with the stun gun.

  I juddered; the tremors slowed.

  Breathing heavily, I stared around at the Pure, who were like dolls in their party dresses, with bullets through their brains.

  Ash was tucking away his shooter, with a shrug. ‘I go bang, bang.’

  Still trembling, I managed a shaky smirk.

  Until the hollers from below.

  I’d wanted an entrance but not like this.

  Ash flushed. ‘I forgot about the stealthy, what with the electrocution. How do you want to play this?’

  The vampires below were crowding towards Tower Block A…and our stairwell.

  It was a suicide mission to get across that playground — through that many Pure — now they knew we were here.

  And it was my decision to make alone…?

  When I hesitated, Ash dropped to his knee. ‘You’re my princess, Violet,’ he said softly with a smile.

  I glanced at Rebel, and
he simply nodded. Then he also dropped to his knee, next to Ash.

  I flushed, looking away from them. ‘Cheers for the pressure, wallads.’

  Rebel spluttered with laughter, bouncing to his feet. He held out his hand to Ash. Grudgingly, Ash took it, allowing himself to be pulled up.

  ‘Screw it, we came to burn down Eden’s house. And I want a burning.’ I allowed the violet and black to spark through me, until I was flying. I nodded, and we stalked towards the stairs. ‘No hurting the humans.’ It was strange that I didn’t even stop to consider myself one of those anymore. ‘Now let’s take this bitch down.’

  When we sprang down the final steps, and I drew Star in a blinding arc, I grinned.

  A troop of the Pure in dinner jackets and bow ties (we’d crashed one hell of a party), marched towards us across the playground, between the terrified humans shivering in the cold night air.

  At least if we were going to die, we’d have an audience.

  The flash of fangs, gleam of shank claws, and gekkering howls.

  Blaze and Spark leapt from the steps over my head, steering with their bristling tails, before thudding into a blue dinner jacket bastard and ripping out his throat.

  An outraged roar, and we were swept under the well-dressed wave.

  The fox brothers were nothing but flashes of red, rattling yelps, and howls.

  I pressed my hand, as if in blessing, to one burly bloke’s forehead, and he fell squealing in flames.

  When I was dragged backwards by my jacket, I struck with a spinning kick, slicing Star through the pretty blond vampire’s hand.

  Hands and fire. I’d never forgotten Rebel’s lessons.

  The hand dropped at the feet of a human kid like an offering. Crimson sprayed my cheek.

  I was a god.

  Yet when the bloke — a kid buried in puffer jacket and swag — stared at me, it wasn’t with awe. He looked at me in the same way I had Rebel, after he’d snapped Toben’s neck. I stumbled away, but the Pure struggling with Rebel caught my elbow, shoving me towards the kid.

  I hissed at a sudden sharp pain. Confused, I pressed my fingers to my shoulder. When I drew back my hand, it was sticky with blood.

  The human kid in the puffer jacket had his chin tilted defiantly, but his hands that clutched the gory blade shook.

  And these are the jackasses you’re sacrificing Jade and your own hoochie ass for?

  They’re like me, J, can’t you see that? That kid’s just protecting his own.

  I snapped the human kid’s wrist — crack — and he squealed. ‘Not your fight, soldier.’ I glanced over at Ash, who was slamming a vampire with a peak of chestnut hair and classic dinner jacket repeatedly into the metal pole of the swings. ‘Playtime’s over,’ I called, waving Star towards Tower Block B.

  Ash nodded, before wrapping the swing’s chain around the fanatic’s neck and pulling.

  Ash was no James Bond. He was the hot villain who strangled him.

  The Blood Familiars snapped at ankles and calves, biting through our enemies.

  When Rebel heard my call, he fell back, away from a snarling gang of the Pure. Limping and clutching his broken wing, he swung his glowing sword in front of him, as if its light could ward them off.

  Then Rebel blew on the flames and they ignited, whooshing heat across the playground.

  Red-hot screeches, as the Pure flared violet to the night sky. Vampire fireworks. Rebel burnt them Hackney style.

  We edged closer to Tower Block B, which rose above us monstrous. The mirror of my old home. And Eden’s dream project that would cast the world to hell.

  The bald bastard with the wing tattoos, as if birds had exploded from his mind, thrust through the ranks of the Pure towards us. In gleaming white tux and black bow tie, he hunkered with his claws primed at his knuckles: the claws I’d mistaken for a shank, and the reason I’d abandoned Rebel and run on the first day I’d met him.

  I stiffened.

  Maybe I abandoned Rebel as much as others had abandoned me.

  Maybe I did it to punish Rebel because they’d abandoned me.

  Rebel’s hand squeezed mine.

  Then a circle of humans stumbled around us, breathless and trembling. We shoved them away, but they pressed closer.

  The vampires watched, smirking.

  Stun guns… I noticed them casual in the fanatics’ hands.

  The Pure were stinging the humans’ arses with shots of electricity to drive them towards us.

  I growled, pushing a stout middle-aged bloke back, before catching Ash’s arm to stop him clouting a woman who was burrowed in her faded duvet. When someone tripped into my back, I spun, pinning them with my sword.

  A girl.

  She shivered in her unicorn nightie, sobbing in the snow. Then she collapsed to the ground, curling into a ball and dragging her thin arms over her head.

  As if she could hide from the monster.

  I’d almost knifed her.

  I still hungered to kill her.

  ‘Stop,’ I whispered and then hollered, ‘bastard stop.’ When Rebel and Ash glanced at me, I tried not to let my voice waver, ‘I won’t do this by bringing bones and feathers to the world. I’m a hunter but I don’t gank humans. So, fly away now, Brigadier, this mission is over.’

  Ash shrugged. ‘I’ve nowhere else to be. Anyway, would Han abandon Princess Leia?’

  ‘What about you, pretty boy punk? If your wings weren’t—’

  ‘Nothing to do with my wings.’ Rebel stroked the back of my hand. ‘I’m yours.’

  I smiled, before bending down to Blaze and Spark. When they whined, I stroked their ears. ‘Run and be free. Ash was right, you don’t belong to anyone.’ Then I stood on tiptoe to wave at Bird Tattoo. ‘Wing face, white flag’s being waved over here, yeah?’

  Bird Tattoo grimaced, shoving through the cowering humans. When he spun me, I braced myself.

  I jumped at the spark and buzz of electrified cuffs, which bound my hands behind my back.

  Bird Tattoo sneered, before shackling Ash and then Rebel. When he gobbed in Rebel’s face and punched him in the gut, it was Ash who snarled. Then Bird Tattoo smoothed down his tux and grabbed my arm, parading me through the fanatics’ ranks.

  The Pure clapped and whooped.

  I flushed, ducking my head to hide behind my hair, even as I glanced between the ash blonde strands at the looming tower block.

  Floor Eleven — Eden and Gizem.

  The battle with the Pure, on the night my sister was set to die.

  Yet I was handcuffed, knifed in the shoulder, and my allies were defeated.

  Bird Tattoo’s hold on me tightened as he dragged me into the shadow of Block B, for a date with the bloke who craved to kill me and feast on the world.

  26

  Born and raised in the shadow of Hackney, my bloody death had haunted me ever since I’d clasped my first shank.

  Bitches like me died on the streets.

  Yet the chance to go out battling for something righteous had spiralled me to violet glory. Now I shook, however, that I’d bleed out shackled. Worse? My Brigadier and punk Rebel would suffer the same.

  Tower Block B, floor eleven. Gizem’s fiery orange apartment.

  Violins, in an imperious waltz, soared from the sound system on the glass coffee table. The table was a riot of white lilies. The intense sweet scent was sickening.

  I shifted from foot to foot, glancing down at Rebel and Ash’s boots on either side of mine because it was easier than looking up at Eden. We were lined in front of him: peasants before a king.

  Eden sprawled on a flame red armchair; his coat hung artfully open. His eyes glittered as he examined his captives, like we were tasty treats at a tea party.

  Bird Tattoo prowled behind us in guard mode.

  A soft kid’s sobbing was coming from behind the closed door of Aylin’s bedroom.

  Gizem’s bedroom door was closed. She wasn’t sobbing. Hell, I wished she was because her silence hurt worse.

&nbs
p; Carefully, I tested the cuffs, hissing as my skin blistered: these must be custom-made for angels and vampires. I scanned the apartment, from the fawn divan underneath the window, piled with fluffy cushions, to the corridor with the cracked radiator, through to the kitchen.

  All ordinary. Except for the leader of the Pure and his prisoners.

  ‘Kneel to your king.’ Eden waved at the laminated flooring. When I hesitated, he nodded to Bird Tattoo. ‘A pawn must learn when the game is lost.’

  Bird Tattoo shoved me in the back, and I gasped from the sudden jolt to my knife wound.

  I stumbled forward a step. But I didn’t kneel.

  Bird Tattoo stomped to Aylin’s bedroom. When he wrenched open the door, and Aylin’s wail rose in crescendo with the violin, I dropped to my knees.

  Aylin believed in bastard Father Christmas. Gizem was trying to give her a life — hope — that we’d never had.

  In a single moment, Bird Tattoo could’ve torn it from her.

  What if he had already?

  To my surprise, Rebel and Ash sank to their knees next to me. Both their shoulders brushed mine — one on either side — warm and solid.

  It gave me strength.

  Eden clapped his hands. ‘How delightful: three wicked rebels on their knees, soon to be punished by the Pure armies.’

  ‘Crack on with it then, bro,’ I tilted my chin, ‘or are you killing us with your rhymes?’

  Eden leant forward on his blazing throne. ‘If you wish to burn my house, I shall burn yours. The birthing pains of all ancient blood feuds.’ When Ash stiffened, Eden chuckled. ‘Whore, your bugs were such a short game of hide-and-seek. Although,’ he kicked his bare feet up onto the glass table, ‘you shall still make a pretty soldier on your hands and knees.’

  I snarled, struggling to stand, but Ash shook his head.

  Eden pouted. ‘Do you now wish to know why my purified are dressed for the ball?’

  I lifted my eyebrow. ‘They’re waiting for you to turn into a pumpkin?’

  Eden pointed his long foot at me. ‘This is the night I catch a monster by the toe, and if it squeals, gut it in the snow.’

  I recoiled.

  He knew all along, J, about tonight. He set us up.