by Helen Harper
The three men walk out without so much as a flicker in their eyes to show that they heard me. My words are swallowed up as the bus doors are slammed shut.
‘What’s going on, Bo?’ Beth asks. ‘Where are we going?’
I hiss in frustration. If just one of the guards had listened, there would still be a thread of hope for Alice. I have to believe that. ‘They’re supposedly taking us somewhere out of the city where we’re going to be safe.’
‘They’re not though, are they?’ the Medici guzzler says.
I shake my head. ‘No.’
He starts yelling. When that does nothing he throws his head back repeatedly against the window. Each time it smacks off the glass, there’s a thud. ‘Stop that,’ I say tiredly. ‘It’s not going to make a difference.’
A few others yank at their chains in desperation. Beth is smarter. She looks at me and raises her eyebrows. ‘Do you see a way out?’
‘Not yet. But none of us are dead yet. Panic isn’t going to help anyone.’
One of the women begins to screech, a high-pitched sound which makes me wince. As if in response, the engine starts up and the bus moves.
‘Be quiet,’ I snap.
She pauses momentarily and stares at me with crazed eyes. ‘Or what? You’re going to come over here and hit me?’ She laughs wildly. ‘We’re all dead. We’re corpses in the ground. A cautionary note for future generations.’ She starts to scream again.
I count to ten.
‘What do we do, Bo?’ Beth asks.
I glance at her. ‘We need to get out of these cuffs and chains.’
‘Sure,’ the Medici guy drawls sarcastically. ‘Then we can blow the roof of this bus and fly away.’ A trickle of blood leaks down his forehead where he smashed himself against the window. Fat lot of good that did.
‘Does anyone have a hair clip?’ I ask. ‘A bobby pin I can use to work the lock?’
‘You’re going to pick a magic lock with your hands tied behind your back?’ he snorts.
‘It’s a better plan than knocking myself out,’ I say levelly.
At the far end of the bus, a small voice pipes up, ‘I’ve got some.’
I peer across. A young Bancroft woman. She jerks her head to the left and I catch a glint of metal. I nod. ‘Good.’ I look at the man next to her. ‘You need to get the clip out. You’re close enough that if you turn your head, you can use your teeth.’
He glances from me to the Bancroft vamp and back again then bares his fangs. ‘A bloodguzzler’s best weapon,’ he says with a half grin. There’s a flicker of optimism in his eyes. That’s what I need.
We all hold our breath as he angles his face so his head is pressed towards Miss Bancroft. It looks as if he’s whispering sweet nothings in her ear. She bites her lip in concentration, trying desperately not to move. The bus jerks as it swerves round a corner and she lets out a small moan as his fangs scrape her skull. To give him his due, he doesn’t stop trying. A minute later, when he pulls back with dancing eyes and a pin sticking out of his mouth, there are ragged cheers.
I nod again. ‘Good. Now you need to pass it along the line. Mouth to mouth like the old kids’ party game.’ I look hard at them. ‘I need you all on board. We have to stay calm if we’re going to get out of this.’ Several bob their heads in agreement; a few just look scared. I take a deep breath. ‘We can do this. We just need to work together.’
The Medici guy draws in a breath as if he’s getting ready to argue again. I turn and stare at him and he narrows his eyes but keeps quiet. I’ve achieved something at least. Even the woman has stopped her shrieking.
‘Take it slow,’ I urge. ‘We can’t afford to let the pin drop.’
The first man turns to his right and the woman next to him twists her head. Delicately using her teeth, she takes the pin from him before glancing towards me for approval. I smile at her. She shifts round and passes it to the next vampire. One by one, the little pin moves down the line until it’s held between the lips of the Gully vampire opposite me. I pretend not to notice that his hands are shaking.
There’s a metre wide gulf between us. I test the chains but I can lean forward only inches; it will never be close enough. The Gully vampire watches me with wide, frightened eyes.
‘You must have played spitting contests when you were a kid,’ I say softly. ‘See who could spit the furthest?’
He looks at me as if I’m crazy. I shrug. ‘Perhaps that was just me. It doesn’t matter.’ I draw back my shoulders and paste on my most confident expression. ‘You’re going to have to spit the pin in my direction. If you can get it to land on my knees we’re on easy street. And if you miss, don’t worry about it. I’m sure there are other pins we can use.’
The Bancroft woman clears her throat. ‘Actually, I think that’s the only one left. The others fell out when I was grabbed.’
I glance at her; her hair does look rather mussed. I make myself relax further. ‘No problem because our little Gully friend here has got good aim.’
The panic in his eyes grows. He tries to speak but with the pin in his mouth the words are completely obscured.
‘It’s probably better if you stay quiet,’ I advise. ‘And don’t over-think it. If the pin falls onto the floor then we can still get it. It’ll just be quicker if you can get it to land on me. Okay?’
He nods. The Stuart vampires on either side of me straighten up. They’re ready in case the pin veers off course. It’s not that difficult, he just needs to make sure the pin has enough propulsion. A child could manage it; I sure as hell hope that he can too.
‘I’ll stretch out my legs.’ I give him a reassuring smile. ‘Then you’ll have even more chance of getting it to hit me. On a count of three.’ I can feel everyone’s eyes on me. ‘One. Two.’ I hold his gaze. ‘Three.’
Gully doesn’t move. He’s blinking rapidly and looking more panicked than ever.
‘Good idea,’ I tell him briskly. ‘It’s important to have a practice run. Let’s do it for real this time.’
‘Mm.’
I smile once more and glance at Beth. ‘Do you know his name?’
‘Uh … Chester. It’s Chester.’
That’s pretty old-fashioned; he must be one of the older vampires. He should have more self-confidence. I try not to let my thoughts betray me. ‘Alrighty, Chester. Let’s try again. Count of three. Got it?’
‘Mm.’
‘One. Two.’ I take a deep breath. ‘Th…’ There’s a screech as the bus driver slams on the brakes. We must have been going at some speed because the jolt is incredible. A second later there’s a godawful sound of crunching metal as something rams into the side. Whatever just hit us, it was bloody large and powerful. The bus begins to tip.
Chester yells. ‘I swallowed it! I fucking swallowed it.’ He chokes, trying to bring the pin back up even as we lurch and the bus lands on its side. I’m jolted forward violently. Only the chains holding me in place prevent me from falling. Everyone around me looks terrified.
‘Well, that’s it then,’ the Medici guy says. ‘See you all on the other side. Wherever that may be.’
I grit my teeth. No, something doesn’t compute. We’ve barely been travelling for twenty minutes so we’re still well within the city limits. Hale would have planned for our fiery deaths to take place out on a quiet country road. This isn’t right, I know it’s not.
Now that gravity is pulling me down, I can feel the place where the chain is attached starting to give. I jiggle around; it’s not much but, if I can apply enough pressure, it might give way. There might still be a chance. I ignore the yells and screams from outside and twist harder. Nausea rises through my chest until I can taste the bile on my tongue. I have to do this. It doesn’t matter how strong these damn handcuffs are, I have to get free.
There’s an odd hiss. I turn my head and frown. A moment later, the hiss turns into an almighty crash as the back of the bus is ripped away, metal peeling off like a tin can to reveal broad daylight and a busy stre
et with gaping pedestrians and stopped cars behind us.
‘What the…’
A figure in a balaclava appears, then another and another. Jerkily, they step inside and pick their way across the fallen bodies that are now upside down. The first figure stops right in front of me, raises a long gloved arm and points at me. Blue sparks crackle and my mouth goes dry. It’s a witch.
I squeeze my eyes shut, Michael’s image floating into my mind. I’m not going to beg. Just make it quick.
Then I’m falling. I’d thought there would be more pain. I fall against something hard and warm and with the faint smell of aftershave. That’s when I open my eyes and realise that the witch is holding me and I’m far from dead. Strength is surging back through my veins and firing every impulse. The cuffs have gone.
I push myself away and scramble towards Beth to free her. One of our other rescuers is already there. ‘Get out, Ms Blackman. There’s a car waiting. We will get the others. I take it you are all old enough to withstand sunlight?’
We nod. I keep my focus on the figure. I can’t place the voice and it doesn’t matter who it belongs to anyway ‒ I’m not leaving anyone behind. One by one, bolts of magic free each vampire. One or two cry. The Medici guy looks stunned.
I can’t do much about the handcuffs but I can help them leave the half-destroyed bus. I grab one after another, easing them outside into the free world. Hands reach out and direct the stumbling vampires into cars with engines that are already running.
This is no time be relieved. ‘Who are you? Why are you doing this?’ They have to be white witches; black witches would have already taken advantage of my helplessness.
The nearest one grabs me. ‘We’ll explain later. Right now we have to get away from here. There’s no time.’
Sirens are already shrieking towards us. Ambulances and police cars are one thing but as soon as Hale hears of this ‘accident’ he’ll send out his contingent. I could make a run for it and leave the scene; that would make most sense. I see Beth’s white face ducking inside the nearest car. Bugger it. I stare at the shadowy figure next to me. ‘Fine. Let’s go.’
I stumble out unassisted, noting the terrified human faces gaping at the scene of utter destruction visited upon our city once more. The bus is a wreck, fire licking round the engine, smashed glass and twisted metal everywhere. I lurch towards the car Beth disappeared into. She clutches at my hand as I squeeze into the back with several others.
The door shuts and I glance out of the window. There, on the pavement, with her mouth pressed into a tight, thin line, is the female Kakos daemon from Bruckheimer and Berryhill. While I stop breathing, she takes out a phone, mutters something into it then turns away. As the first ambulance finally arrives, we drive away.
Chapter Fourteen: Go Be a Hero
I pay close attention to where we’re going; I’m not letting them take us to another damned fortress. The other cars follow and, as we get further away, I realise where we’re heading. Deep foreboding zips through me. When we eventually pull up outside the MI7 warehouse, my worst fears are confirmed.
I don’t even wait for the car to stop, I immediately jump out and back away. ‘Who the hell are you people?’ I snarl as the first figure, still wearing a bloody balaclava, also leaves.
The reply is mild in tone but doesn’t answer my question. ‘We thought this was where you would want to come.’ She flips back the balaclava and looks at me.
I stiffen, staring at the tattoo on her cheek. ‘You’re a black witch.’
‘That’s stating the obvious,’ she says, not unpleasantly. ‘But yes, I am.’
Others begin to get out of the cars, both vampires and witches. Everyone keeps back, understanding that for now this is between me and this witch. My eyes harden into cold ice. ‘Explain to me what is going on.’
‘We’re not here to harm you. We want to help.’ She gestures at the cars. ‘As I think we’ve already demonstrated.’
‘Actually, we had things under control.’ I don’t mention that I’m not sure if I could have performed the contortions required to free anyone, even if Chester had managed to spit the damn pin onto my lap.
The witch snorts. ‘Really?’
I cross my arms. ‘Really. And you’re unlikely rescuers considering that a few nights ago your lot beat a vampire to death.’
I hear several intakes of breath from the watching vampires. The witch doesn’t blink. ‘I thought you might bring that up. They were not our lot, they were hybrids.’ Her lip curls. ‘An entirely different breed.’
I watch her eyes. ‘Is that why you’re doing this? You want to get one up on witches who are more powerful than you because they’ve embraced both sides of magic?’
She shrugs. ‘I suppose you could say that’s part of it but it’s not the real reason.’
I stand my ground. ‘Then what is?’
‘Stop thinking with your heart, Ms Blackman, and start using your head.’ I bristle but the witch continues. ‘How stupid do you think we are? Sure, we didn’t like the Families. They were far too uppity and close-mouthed, only interested in themselves. But taking the criminal element off the streets and turning them was always going to end in grief. It might have taken longer than we anticipated but we knew it was going to happen.’
‘You’re still not answering my question.’
She tosses back her hair. ‘Once the bloodguzzlers are gone, who do you think will be the next target? You don’t really expect that society will just move on and that will be that?’
I think of Hale’s derision for all tribers. She has a point but it still doesn’t explain why she’s helping us. ‘There are a lot more of you than there are of us.’
‘There are,’ she agrees. ‘But that doesn’t mean we’re not vulnerable.’ A shadow crosses her face. ‘Especially when Kakos daemons are involved.’
My body tenses even more. She laughs, without amusement. ‘Yes, we know the part they played in all this. We can feel it when they tamper.’
Anger ripples down my spine. ‘And you didn’t say anything? You didn’t do anything? They’re responsible for thousands of deaths. Those deaths are your responsibility now.’
‘Do you think the Families would have listened to us if we’d gone to them? You thought you were invulnerable with your traditions and your rules. You’d have ignored us.’
I know Michael wouldn’t have. ‘That’s a shitty excuse.’
She regards me calmly. ‘Maybe. But maybe we were tired of the guzzlers thinking they could rule this city. The Families have been above the law for centuries. How can that be allowed? Maybe we thought it was time they were taken down a peg or two.’ She pauses. ‘I will admit that we did not expect the results to be quite so … dramatic.’
‘So you want us to what? Join forces? I’m a Blackman. You hate me even more than you hate the Families.’
She waves her hand dismissively. ‘Old grudges don’t concern me. Your grandfather worked against us once but that was a long time ago.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘How about I show you can trust me?’
She jerks her head and one of the other witches opens a car door. There’s a loud bark and Kimchi bounds out towards me. My heart surges in delight. He barrels forward, almost bowling me over. I hug him tightly then look up at her. ‘Thank you.’ I consider lying but decide against it. ‘It means a lot to me that you rescued him.’
She smiles. ‘He’s a dog. What else was I going to do?’
‘It still doesn’t mean I can trust you,’ I tell her. I look at the other witches who are watching our exchange. ‘Any of you.’ I lick my lips and pat Kimchi’s head. He subsides, settling beside me but still touching my leg as if he wants to make sure I’m not going to leave him again.
‘Then,’ she responds, ‘we’ll have to find another way.’
‘Kakos daemons can read minds. They can’t be beaten when they know every move you’re going to make in advance.’
‘You’re rig
ht. We should all lie down and let them do whatever they want.’ She glances round. ‘Saddle up, boys. We’re leaving. London belongs to the daemons.’
‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘We want you on our side, Ms Blackman. We’re already talking to the white witches. The daemons and Vince Hale might have forced our hand but we are adapting. Things are changing.’ Her voice is clear and resolute.
‘And the hybrids?’ I ask. ‘What about them?’
She lifts her hand once more. Another figure emerges from which Kimchi was in. This one, however, is dragged out and is wearing a hood rather than a balaclava. Kimchi whines. I stroke his ears to calm him and wait to see what fresh new hell the witch is showing me.
He is brought over and forced onto his knees in front of her. Unease flares in the pit of my stomach; I don’t need to witness any more executions. Hybrid or not, there’s been enough death ‒ and far too much at my hands.
I recognise him as soon as his hood is whipped off. He was there in Covent Garden and he was involved in the killing of the Medici vampire. His twin black-and-white tattoos pulse in anger and he glares at all of us.
‘Watch this,’ the black witch tells me, then raises her hand towards him.
I stiffen, unsure whether I should get involved or not. There’s a crackle of magic and he starts to scream. It’s not like any sound I’ve heard before; it’s imbued with so much pain and fear that even my bones tremble. I start forward but the witch shakes her head and points at his cheek. I follow her finger and gasp. The black tattoo is leeching away, fading from his skin.
‘Neat, huh?’
I stare at her. ‘You can do that? You can take away their magic?’
She smiles proudly. ‘It’s something we’ve been working on. A necessary evil.’
I swallow. It’s not only the tattoo that’s disappearing; every bit of colour is vanishing from the hybrid. Even his hair is turning white. As I watch, wrinkles begin to form. It’s as if he’s aging right in front of our eyes. His agony is visible. ‘You’re vicious,’ I breathe.