‘Morning,’ she chirped as she headed up to the overpass.
‘Morning,’ I replied, holding the dagger inside the bag, concealing its blade until the two of them had passed.
‘Come on then,’ I said, hoping he didn’t notice the tremble in my arm as I gripped the dagger’s handle. ‘What are you waiting for? I’m right here!’
Pinstripe chuckled, then nodded over his shoulder. Below us was a group of kids, huddled around a phone and rapping along to some grime music. I’d been so focussed on the man in the suit that I was only just now hearing it.
‘Too many witnesses,’ he said. ‘Ours is a secret war. Don’t you know that?’
A baby, turning to ash.
‘I don’t care if they see me kill you,’ I told him. ‘It’d be worth it to see the look on your face.’
As if triggered by my threat, a bead of blood appeared from Pinstripe’s right eye and ran down the crag of his cheekbone. It must have been an after-effect from stabbing him with my house key. I grinned, but my smile soon faded as he mopped up the leak with a lock of hair that used to belong on my head.
‘Consider yourself lucky they’re there,’ he said, nodding back to the youths. ‘You wouldn’t stand a chance against me, with or without the brand. I've lived too many lives. Seen empires rise and fall. I have powers that you couldn’t even fathom. Do you really think a trembling little girl is going to put an end to me?’
‘Can we cut through the treacle?’ I said, feigning boredom. ‘I’ve got a lot of vampires to murder today.’
‘You’re scared,’ he replied, not intimidated in the least. ‘And you should be scared. You’re trafficking in someone else's world, Abbey. A world you don’t belong to. A world of apex predators, and you, girl, are the bottom of the food chain.’ He took a step in my direction and met me nose-to-nose. ‘Give it up. You’re no Nightstalker. You have no place in this war. Return the dagger to the angels and go back to your ordinary existence. Do it now. Because if you continue down this path, I promise you I’ll see to it that your life is ripped to pieces.’ He grinned like a Cheshire cat. ‘You cannot defeat us. We are eternal. We are darkness.’
And off he went. One second he was with me, the next he was gone.
The world returned to normal.
I heard the traffic from the flyover, thundering above me. Heard the kids rapping below. I pulled my hand from my backpack, leaving the dagger tucked inside. I looked down at my palm and saw the brand, glowing dim and warm, like cooling lava.
My hand was shaking.
15
I wasn’t giving up shit.
If this vampire lot really were the walking apocalypse, what good would it do to go back now and play pretend? What good would it do to hide? How is it that quote goes again… you know the one…. “The Only Thing Necessary for the Triumph of Evil is that Good Men Do Nothing.” Yeah, that. Although, you know, broaden it out a bit to include us chicks.
I pictured that eaves baby being pulled out of the pile of corpses again. It played over and over in my mind’s eye like a gif. That tiny, crying mass, its life barely begun, its life already over.
No. I wasn’t giving up shit.
I met the angels in their gas tower, where I was treated to a stirring pep talk from Vizael, who congratulated me on finally accepting the mantle of Nightstalker. To say thank you, he gave me a tan leather sheath for my dagger, which came with a harness I could wear under my jacket. He helped me into it, fussing at its fasteners like a proud father getting his daughter ready for her first day of school. For a moment I thought he was going to take a photo for posterity: me stood by the door smiling meekly, dressed in a crisply ironed blouse, my skirt a little too long, but I’d soon grow into it.
‘There,’ he said, taking a step back to drink me in. ‘Fighting fit.’
I didn’t mention my encounter with Pinstripe – I was too embarrassed to admit that I’d let that rotten bastard get the better of me a second time. I knew Gen would love that. Besides, today was about killing vampires, and holy shit, was I about to kill me some vampires.
The place Viz sent us wasn’t at all what I’d expected. When he said we were visiting a vampire nest, I imagined some gloomy, coffin-filled hole in the ground covered in cobwebs and stinking of rot and death. Instead, I was posted up outside the Lloyd’s of London building, a cluster of gleaming silver towers in the city’s financial district, the Square Mile.
Viz had instructed Gen to shadow my inaugural dust-up, a prospect she was as enthusiastic about as you might expect.
‘Makes a change seeing you out in the daytime,’ she said, observing me through hooded eyes. ‘I half-expected you to burst into flames under sunlight.’
I ignored her and concentrated on the matter at hand.
I stared up at the giant, interlinked monolith. The sky reflected from the building’s polished metal surfaces, clean and blue. The Lloyd’s of London Building wore its services on its exterior, showing off its pipes and ducts and conduits like it had been turned inside out by some science experiment gone wrong.
It was around noon. The weather was cold, but I felt hot beneath my jacket, so I unzipped the leather and gave it a flap to let some air in.
‘There,’ said Gen, pointing up to a glass lift descending down the outside of one of the towers. ‘Visual acquired.’
I squinted and could just about make out two suited figures standing inside.
‘Those are our vamps?’ I said.
Gen replied with a curt nod. ‘You catch on fast.’
‘What are they doing out here?’
‘What did you expect? This isn’t a Hammer Horror. The Judas Clan aren’t castle-dwelling boogeymen, feared by simpleton peasants.’
‘Then what are they?’ I asked.
‘They’re leeches, not just of blood, but of riches. The Clan are sophisticated, corporate monsters, profiting from mankind’s misery, draining society dry.’
‘So… bankers?’
‘Precisely.’
It’s funny, but of all the insane things I’d learned these last few days, this was easily the most believable. Stock traders and hedge fund managers were vampires? That tracked just fine.
Gendith went on. ‘The thing that really makes the Judas Clan vampires is the toll they take on humanity. Ever since they began to rise from their slumber a decade ago, the Clan have been using their powers to infiltrate the financial sector and bleed the system. They are master mesmerists, and unlike other bloodsuckers, they can survive in sunlight, which gives them the ability to influence the living world in ways the rest of their species can only dream of.’
‘So what’s this then...?’ I said, gesturing to the building. ‘Vampire Incorporated?’
‘This is only one part of their operation,’ Gen replied. ‘The Clan’s organisation is made up of many cells. Wheels within wheels. Thousands of vampires, covertly working in conjunction with one another, maximising profits. Together, they make billions each year.’
‘Did you say billions, with a B? What do they need all that money for?’
Instead of answering, Gen held up a finger and shushed me. A finger would have been fine, the shush was overkill.
I looked back to the tower to see the two suited men exiting the ground floor of the building and making their way across the forecourt. They looked normal enough, a couple of cutthroat city boys in Gordon Gekko suits, faux-hawks and spray tans.
‘What do we do?’ I asked.
‘We follow.’
So we tracked them. Tracked them at a distance as they crossed the road and took a side alley to head in the direction of Fenchurch Street. After that, we followed them for another mile, tailing them right to the edge of the district. They were taking one hell of a lunch break.
‘Do you know where they’re going, or what?’ I inquired.
‘Instead of asking so many questions, why don’t you try using your eyes?’
I turned back to the two vamps to see them entering a Starbucks.
>
‘I don’t get it,’ I said, ‘they already walked by two Starbucks to get here.’
Gen smiled. Well, half-smiled. ‘So, you were paying attention after all.’
We discretely followed the vamps inside, then watched them approach the counter to place their orders. From the opposite end of the shop, we observed quietly as the taller of the two vamps approached a barista; a perky young blonde with an apron tied around her pinched waist.
‘Can I get a name?’ she asked.
‘Vlad,’ he replied.
I almost laughed out loud. ‘That’s a joke, right?’ I whispered to my companion.
‘It’s a code.’
“Vlad” paid in cash, and a couple of minutes later the barista returned from a back room and set down two short paper cups. I watched as the vamps took their drinks and supped the contents through the holes of the cup’s plastic lids. Each gave satisfied gasps as their faces came away from the drinks, and as they did, I noticed dark red smears on their lips.
‘Blood,’ I said, stating the obvious.
‘This is where they come for their afternoon pick-me-up. All the Clan in the neighbourhood flock to this place.’
I could see it now. Looking around, I saw letter J’s on the heads of most of the coffee shop’s patrons. Even the baristas were Clan members. ‘There are so many jays in this place I’m surprised Snoop Dogg isn’t here.’ Gen looked at me quizzically. ‘Weed joke. Don’t worry about it.’
She ignored me and concentrated on the matter at hand. ‘If you can see the Judas brand without having to physically touch the subject, that means your powers are growing. Good. You’ll need them for what comes next. Maybe you’ll even make it out alive.’
I was about to ask what that meant, but went hush as the vamps passed us by and exited through the shop door.
We tailed them as they headed back to their office with their plasma macchiatos, doing our best to remain nondescript as we lagged a short way behind. After a while, they took a turn into the same deserted side alley they’d cut through the first time.
Gen stopped me at the entrance. ‘This is where it happens. You’ll need to act fast.’
‘Just me against the two of them?’
‘Yes. The Judas Clan can tolerate sunlight, but it weakens them physically. It’s solar noon right now, which means the sun is at its highest point, and the vampires are at their most affected. They shouldn’t provide much of a challenge, at least not to the Sanctified one.’ She regarded me coolly. ‘Why, are you having second thoughts?’
‘No. Course not.’ I said, more out of belligerence than anything else.
‘Good. Then get in there and start stabbing.’
‘Okay, but only because I want to, not because you told me to.’
16
I slid the dagger from its sheath, took a couple of deep breaths—which completely failed to calm my jangled nerves—and went pacing off after the vampires.
As I did, a strange, unseen weight seemed to descend on the alley. My ears popped, like the air had become pressurised, and when I turned back to Gen, I could see a shimmering wall separating us, flecked with shifting threads of gold.
‘I’ve cut them off at the other end too,’ she said, her voice muffled by the force field, ‘but I can only hold them for so long.’ She was making this happen. Manipulating the surrounding light and forming it into solid walls. I had to admit, that was pretty impressive. ‘Go now. I’ll make sure you’re not interrupted.’
I was amped but terrified, my fingers flexing around the handle of the dagger. Was I really going to do this? Was I really going to take down a couple of stone-cold nosferatus? I could die. I could die, big time. Die here, in this alley, and then what? Would the angels tell Neil the truth, or would they leave him to think I’d just disappeared, never to return home? Neil would be waiting, growing more and more worried, and he’d never know what happened. Maybe he’d think I finally got tired of him and ghosted out of his life.
I found myself dithering, my feet not wanting to carry me any further into the alley, my heart beating so hard I thought it might crack open my rib cage.
Was I going to do this?
I thought back to the house of dead eaves’. To what Viz had told me. About how he needed me, and how more people would die without my help. And I wanted revenge. Revenge for that poor baby. Revenge for every person who’d ever suffered because of those bloodsucking freaks.
I could do this.
I had to do this.
I felt the brand pulse in my hand and saw it glow hot and bright.
Yes.
Yes, I could do this.
I was meant to do this.
Any fear I had evaporated as my powers ignited, burning new pathways into my brain, endowing me with abilities I never thought possible. I was alive – truly alive. Every cell in my body was dancing, fizzing and popping like a flood of champagne bubbles.
I was ready to erupt.
I shook a few last nervous tingles from my muscles and had at it.
‘Hey, fuckers!’ I shouted, and the two vamps turned as one. They saw the silver dagger in my hand. ‘That’s right,’ I said, ‘Game. Fucking. Over.’
I ran at them, screaming, supercharged. I had this. I’d taken down one vampire already—the one who came by my office—and that guy had the jump on me. I’d make mincemeat out of these two. One little scratch with my magic knife and they’d be bleeding like stuck pigs.
As I closed in, the vamps took off in the other direction, but were quickly halted by Gen’s force wall. Trapped like rats in a maze, they span about to face their attacker, shoulders hunching as they went into monster mode. Immediately, their skin turned a cadaverous, bluish pallor, stretched tight and webbed by spidery black veins. Sinews stood up beneath the skin of their necks, as if thick worms had tunnelled under their flesh. They threw back their heads and hissed to reveal gleaming sets of white fangs, slick with saliva.
One of them fell right away. Without hesitating, I drove the silver dagger deep into his neck, right up to the hilt. His eyes bulged wide as air bubbles frothed in the blood escaping from his jugular, and I roared and twisted the knife until his eyelids fell shut and his body slid from my blade.
‘Next!’ I crowed.
Cornered, his friend saw no option but to fight. He came at me, his movements sleek and fluid, arms outstretched and grasping for my throat. Refusing to get choked out by another of those dirty bastards, I lashed out with the blade and drew a long, red line along his forearm.
He shrieked and recoiled, and as he went to staunch the flow of blood escaping his wound, I closed my hand into a small, bony fist, and clobbered him in the jaw.
Crack.
He staggered backwards, floundering, but not quite capsizing.
Blood hummed in my veins. Electric. Volcanic. I swung the dagger again and slashed him across the chest, sending half of his necktie fluttering to the ground like a ribbon. A fresh wound bloomed beneath his shirt. More blood.
‘Come on, then!’ I screamed.
Enraged, he came at me again with impossible speed, evading my next cut and closing the distance between us in one long stride. Grabbing me by the shoulder of my jacket, he gathered a bunch of leather in his fist, hauled me towards him, and threw a punch into my face.
I felt a hot spike of pain as the blow landed and my nose flattened flush with my skull. Stars exploded in front of my vision and blood shot from my nostrils and splashed to the ground.
Like a hungry shark drawn to fresh chum, the vampire went into a frenzy, pummelling me, raining fists upon my body, each of them heavy as a van full of anvils. I threw out a couple of sloppy swings to defend myself, but it was no good. He was all over me.
My knees gave out and I crumpled to the pavement, curling up into a foetal ball as he continued to kick at my face. The tip of one of his Oxfords connected with my jaw, and I felt blood pooling in my mouth. As I lay there, taking blow upon blow, my mind went to another place. I began to wonder,
once all this was over, what they would write on my tombstone.
“Died of a vicious beating”?
Nah, they’d never write that. The dead always die gentle deaths. They depart this life, die in their sleep, flutter away to reunite with their loved ones. They never get kicked to bits in a grubby alleyway by some scumbag murderer.
Things began to go dark as the purpled flesh of my face puffed up and squeezed my eyelids shut. Any powers the brand gave me were depleted now. I wore my nerve endings on the outside of my body. My cells were empty. The champagne had gone flat. I cried for help, but the only thing that escaped my shattered jaw was a hollow gurgle. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.
I was dead.
17
Actually, let me walk that back a bit. “Dead” is a bit strong. Sure, I might have felt like death, but I survived my encounter with the two vampires, just about. Sorry if I left you feeling a bit cheated there. My bad.
I woke up in a ratty cot back at home base. Sweat cooled on my face, a face that I expected to be puffed and painful, but instead felt almost normal. I yanked out my phone and reversed the camera so I could take a look at myself. On the screen I saw, much to my surprise, not a mashed-up, broken mess, but an almost-normal looking me staring back, wide-eyed. Oh, there was a little light bruising, and my bottom lip was a little fuller than normal, but otherwise, you’d hardly know I’d just taken a boot to the face repeatedly.
I looked at the brand on my hand. It had to be down to that. To my “powers”. They hadn’t won me the fight, but they’d helped me recuperate fast.
Since I’d managed to fall flat on my face, Gendith had been forced to intervene. It was an act that I had mixed feelings about. On the one hand, my catastrophic performance had demonstrated perfectly that I didn’t have what it took to be the Nightstalker, which was regretful, to say the least. On the other hand, without Gen stepping in and battering my attacker to death with her morning star, my remains would be pasted all over that Square Mile back alley.
Sanctified: An Uncanny Kingdom Urban Fantasy (Branded Book 1) Page 9