by Helen Harper
‘Make sure he keeps his mouth shut,’ I instruct firmly, as the pair of them manoeuvre Corinne between them. ‘And O’Shea?’
He turns his head. ‘‘Yeah?’
‘Are you okay? You know, after the stuff at the courthouse?’
He reaches over with his one free hand and tousles my hair. ‘I’m fabulous, darling.’
I peck him on the cheek then watch the three of them depart. The song O’Shea chooses to bawl out is particularly bawdy. I cross my fingers tightly; this had better bloody work.
*
I’m not happy about scuffling back through the tunnel to wait in the time bubble next to Oliver’s Island. I carefully close all the doors after me and bolt the door to the little dungeon again so it looks undisturbed. I squeeze back through the gap in the wall, replace the disturbed earth and stones and adjust the hanging handcuffs until I’m satisfied they’re ready. Then I hunker down ready for Troy’s return.
The eerie silence, bereft this time even of rats, is broken sooner than I expected. The footsteps halt outside the door while I move as quickly and quietly as possible, stretching my arms up into the cuffs and making it appear as if they’re still locked. I’ll only have a fraction of a second to catch him off-guard. My body tenses as I prepare for attack. The bolt grates open, clanging in its catch, and the door swings open.
I don’t even look, I simply yank my hands free and leap at the shadowy figure in the doorway, knocking him off his feet. I land on top of him, circling my hands round his throat and holding his torso tightly with my knees.
Then I glance at his face and pull back as if burned. ‘What in sodding hell are you doing here?’
Michael grins at me. ‘It’s good to see you too.’
‘You could compromise everything!’ I hiss. I’m starting to believe that every time I think I’m about to be attacked it’s going to be Michael Montserrat instead, grinning at me so my stomach flip-flops.
‘Don’t worry. I was very careful.’ He shifts his body slightly, making me aware of the tight muscle bunched under my groin and thighs.
I jump up to my feet and glare. ‘How do you know? If just one person…’
He gives me a droll look. ‘Please, Bo. Do you really think that after all my years as a vampire, I don’t know how to stay hidden?’
I don’t yield. ‘If you’ve ruined this, there’ll be blood on your hands.’
‘I haven’t.’ He stands up and brushes himself off. Then his expression softens. ‘I’m glad you’re alright.’ His expression is earnest. ‘I was worried.’
‘I’m not a helpless little girl,’ I tell him, although I can’t keep the smile out of my eyes.
‘No, you’re not.’
Putting my hands on my hips, I gaze at the sharp contours of his face. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Helping you catch this bastard.’
I shake my head. ‘It’s too dangerous. If he spots you before…’
‘Bo.’ He tucks an unruly curl behind my ear. ‘He won’t. Besides, two of us have a better chance of taking him down.’
‘You could have sent someone else. It didn’t have to be you.’
His eyes gleam. ‘But I’m your friend. And this is what friends do for other friends. You’re not a lone wolf.’
‘I think the only wolfish one around here is you,’ I mutter under my breath. Michael grins. Wolfishly. I sigh. ‘Go on then. Get in.’ I gesture him inside. ‘I’ll have to bolt you in.’ He’s too large; he’ll never squeeze through the little gap in the wall like I did.
Wary of the time, I quickly lock him in then push back through the enlarged rat hole. Even though I’d covered most of it up, it’s easier this time with Michael’s help. He understands the process without me needing to explain, scraping away enough dirt and stone and then yanking on my ankles to pull me through.
‘You see?’ he says, ‘teamwork.’ Before I can respond snarkily, he looks around the small space. ‘A time bubble.’ He shakes his head. ‘Who’d have thought it?’
‘Yeah,’ I admit. ‘I’d like to know how Troy knew about it.’
‘Troy?’
I wave a hand in the air. ‘That’s not his real name.’
‘But we’re the Trojan horse. I like it.’ He smiles for a second before his expression turns serious. ‘Foxworthy told me to tell you that Corinne is safe.’
‘How long has it been since she left here?’
‘Two days.’
I take a deep breath. ‘It’s been just over an hour here.’
‘Then I guess it won’t be long before Troy joins us.’
I bite my lip. ‘No.’
‘This is a good plan, Bo.’
‘Only if he shows up.’ I find it hard to take the praise. ‘Did Foxworthy say anything else?’
‘The preliminary coroner’s report is back on the women. They all suffered an incredible amount.’
I sense there’s a ‘but’ coming. ‘There’s something else, isn’t there?’
Michael nods, his mouth set in a tight line. ‘Corinne Matheson’s attack was more sustained and brutal than the others.’
I absorb this information. ‘It’s always seemed personal where Corinne was concerned,’ I say slowly. ‘She just didn’t fit the profile of the others. Or the pattern.’
‘What are you thinking?’
‘This time bubble thing. You’d not heard of it before, right?’
‘I know there are companies playing around with this kind of thing. I don’t think they’ve had much success though, despite what they advertise. Nothing they have is powerful enough to create this.’ He waves his arm around the room.
‘I don’t suppose any of the older vampires have heard of something this powerful? Did you ask around?’
He sighs. ‘There was one I spoke to who’d heard a rumour about it but she didn’t know for sure if it was true.’
‘And how old is she?’ I prod.
‘Two hundred and thirty-three.’
I balk slightly at the age; I don’t want to live that long. I focus on the topic in hand. ‘A historian,’ I say, thinking aloud. ‘A historian might know about it.’ My stomach churns. ‘He distorted his voice. I thought it was because Corinne might recognise him but it wasn’t Corinne he was disguising himself from.’ I look up at him, wide-eyed. ‘It was me. I know who he is.’
Just then there’s a noise from outside. I set my jaw and Michael nods. As he moves catlike to the far side of the door, I take up my position back at the cuffs. My pulse is fast and angry. I inhale deeply, holding the breath in my lungs, then I drop my head down and let the open cuffs take most of my weight. The bolt on the other side of the door jiggles before sliding back. It’s time to rock and roll.
*
He stands in the threshold, breathing heavily. I keep my head bowed and limbs limp but I know he’s looking for Corinne.
He laughs sharply, his voice still garbled and metallicised. ‘You may think you can hide from me, whore, but you know it won’t work. There are four walls and this is the only way out.’ He takes a step inside. Michael is flat against the wall behind the door. Troy only needs to take one more step and we’ll have him.
‘I was going to do this properly,’ he grunts. ‘I was going to give you a fitting end. Unfortunately circumstances are moving beyond my control and we need to end things here instead.’ He shrugs. ‘It’s not what I wanted but it’ll have to do. For you and the little bloodguzzler. I’ll take care of her first while you watch. Then it’ll be your turn.’
I sense rather than see Michael tense, ready to pounce. This is going to happen quickly. He punches the door, slamming it into Troy’s balaclava-covered face. Troy howls and I leap away from the handcuffs – just in time to see the syringe in his hand. My eyes widen in alarm. Michael deals a
swift uppercut to his stomach but he hasn’t seen the syringe yet. I launch myself forward, shoving him out of the way just in the nick of time, then I roll to the side to avoid it myself.
‘Where is she?’ he snarls. ‘Where is the whore?’
I spring lightly to my feet. ‘You mean Corinne. Say it,’ I taunt. ‘Say, “where’s Corinne?”’
I see spiteful anger reflected in his dark eyes. ‘Fuck you,’ he hisses. ‘She might get away for now but I’m not an idiot. There’s always a back-up plan.’ He pulls a glowing orb from his pocket. Ghostly blue swirls are visible within its depths. For a moment, I’m confused then I realise what it is.
‘Have fun, boys and girls.’ He raises his hand and, before I can stop him, he smashes the orb on the floor. There’s a loud popping sound. He’s burst the time bubble and water is already pouring into the small room. It’s coming from everywhere and there’s no chance of stopping it. This isn’t a physical leak, it’s time returning to the present. The entire area is going to be submerged within minutes.
I tilt my chin up and stare at Troy. I don’t care.
‘Bo!’ Michael yells, scrambling to his feet.
I ignore him, kicking up at the syringe as hard as I can. It falls with a splash: the water is already five inches deep. I rush the man, colliding hard with his stomach and pushing him backwards. His arms flail and he hits me several times but I’m a vampire. I’m always going to be stronger and faster. I grab his wrists and pin them to the ground. His legs thrash but I pay them no attention. ‘You’re a rapist,’ I hiss. ‘A rapist and a murderer.’
He blinks at me, struggling to keep his face above the water. ‘What of it?’
I grab the balaclava and pull. He twists from side to side but I yank it off. Then I look at him. ‘Hello, James,’ I say. ‘How’s the wife?’
‘Don’t you dare…’
I snatch a hank of his hair and thrust his head underwater, holding it there. I pull it back up and he gasps and splutters. ‘You went after Corinne because you didn’t like the fact that people mistook your wife for her. Isn’t that right?’
He doesn’t answer. I plunge his head underwater again. I feel oddly calm. I yank his head up again. ‘Isn’t that right?’ I hiss in his face.
‘Do it,’ he says. ‘Kill me. Just like you killed Terence.’
‘I didn’t kill Terence,’ I tell him. ‘But you’ve made it personal so I may change my mind about you.’
I slam his head down. The water is creeping up and up. I feel a hand on my shoulder. ‘Don’t, Bo.’ Michael’s voice is measured and steady. ‘He’s not worth it.’
‘He fucking deserves it.’
‘Yes,’ he says, ‘he does. But you don’t. If you do this, there’s no coming back. Believe me.’
I grit my teeth. I can already feel James Matheson’s limbs starting to weaken. He’s not fighting as much as he was. I curse, then stand up, pulling him to his feet. My hands are trembling. I could have killed Matheson easily right here and now and, despite Michael’s words, I’m not sure I would have had bad dreams about it.
‘Stairs,’ I mutter.
Michael nods, taking Matheson’s body and pushing him up. The water reaches my waist as I force my way through behind them. It’s bitterly cold but my vampire blood protects me. My vampire blood made me strong enough to take this prick down. I push down my feelings of guilt at what I almost did and my pulse sings. This is good.
The force of water against the door at the top makes it difficult to open so Michael hands Matheson to me. His teeth are chattering and his lips are turning blue.
‘You’re not going to die,’ I tell him. ‘You’re going to have your day in court. You’re going to face Corinne and let her look you in the eyes. Then you’re going to face the other Corinne – your wife – so she can see what a monster you really are.’
He doesn’t respond. Michael slams his shoulder against the door, forcing it open. I hand over Matheson then turn round to take one last look. There’s barely any breathing space left; I estimate there’s less than a minute before the entire place vanishes in the murky depths. Good riddance, I decide. I join the other two on the surface.
We cross the room, heading out into the dark night and onto the verdant green of Oliver’s Island, and collapse on the shore. The wooden tollbooth creaks and starts to crumble. The planks of wood don’t crash into the water, they simply vanish. The noise is tremendous. A flock of nesting birds, disturbed by the sound, fly up into the sky, cawing their disapproval. I blink twice and then it’s gone. There’s a faint breeze, rippling across the river. And absolutely nothing else.
I pull myself to my feet, glancing back at Matheson who is sprawled on the rocky beach. ‘How did you do it?’ I ask softly. ‘How did you commit all those crimes in public without anyone noticing?’
It’s Michael who answers. ‘The time bubble – it was portable. He could move it to wherever he wanted. I bet if you go back through old newspaper reports, you’ll read about women screaming for their lives, screaming as they’re raped.’ A muscle moves in his cheek. ‘As they’re killed. And when people go to investigate, there’s nothing there. All he and Trevor had to do was keep shifting through the years and they’d never get caught.’
I nod. ‘That’s why Fiona Lane was left in a quarry instead of somewhere more public. You already had this place set up for Corinne. You needed the bubble here.’ I bend down. ‘You only had the one.’
Matheson looks away. I give up, standing up straight and thrusting my hands in my pockets. I look out across the glittering banks of the Thames as the water laps softly at my feet. Michael joins me. ‘What are you thinking?’
‘That if I were an eccentric billionaire who was about to charged with murder, I might find a time bubble device rather useful.’
‘Tobias Renfrew.’ I nod. ‘It’s an interesting theory,’ Michael murmurs. His dark eyes turn to me. ‘How are you, Bo? Are you alright?’
I think it over and I smile. ‘I’m a vampire.’ I meet his eyes. For a moment he seems anxious then he relaxes and smiles back.
There’s a crunch from behind us. I spin round, just in time to see Matheson pulling out a wooden stake. He raises it up, ready to fling in my direction. Michael snaps out his hand, catching Matheson round the throat with such force that his face turns purple. Then Michael throws him backwards against the nearest tree. Matheson slumps down, his head at an odd angle.
I stare. Michael has an oddly satisfied look on his face. ‘You knew,’ I say slowly. ‘You knew he had a stake with him. You knew he was going to try something.’
‘The final decision was his. He knew he’d never win against two vampires, Bo. He committed suicide.’
‘But he wanted to take me down with him first.’ Michael doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. ‘I thought there was no coming back from this kind of thing.’
He meets my eyes. ‘There’s not.’
‘But it’s not your first time, is it?’
‘No.’ He squeezes my hand. ‘He made his decision, Bo.’
I don’t pull away. Instead, I look back out over the water. A small boat is chugging in our direction and I can make out Foxworthy’s familiar figure, silhouetted against the crescent moon. There’s a loud bark and I realise Kimchi is with him, vigorously wagging his tail. Michael releases my hand and I fold my arms and watch them approach. And I don’t say another word.
Chapter Twenty-Five: A Quiet Life
‘You’ve had a busy week,’ Dr Love comments, eyeing me with a practised look of professional solicitude.
I let out a short laugh, although there’s little humour in it. ‘I guess you could say that.’
‘How are you coping with being the centre of attention?’
I shrug awkwardly. ‘The protestors outside New Order have given up. Apparently they’ve deci
ded we’re on their side now. Whatever that means. The rest of the Red Angel thing is a pain in my sodding arse.’
‘You’re getting a lot of calls?’
I sniff. ‘Every man and his dog want an interview.’
‘And you’re declining them all?’
‘My grandfather thinks I should do a couple. He says it’ll be good for the cause.’ I know I’ll cave in eventually. It’s not worth the hassle to keep arguing with him.
Dr Love nods sagely. ‘You don’t think your heroic status is justified?’
I snort. ‘Hardly. I’m no hero.’ I look away, no longer able to meet his eyes. ‘I’m no bloody angel either.’
He leans forward. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Look, Doc, I’m doing well. I took blood from someone different this week, just like you asked. And,’ I say, crossing my heart with index finger to indicate my sincerity, ‘I’m starting to enjoy being a vampire. Being a vampire meant I could save my friends and stop Matheson and Miller from their saga of evil.’
‘They were indeed evil,’ he agrees.
‘The police traced them back. They’d known each other years.’ I think about the strange carving on the tree next to where Matt and I uncovered the animal skeletons. It wasn’t two Ws at all, it was two interconnected Ms. It wasn’t Miller who grew up in that area, it was James Matheson.
‘Matheson met Miller in foster care. He was only there for a month or two when his mother was briefly in prison. But a month or two was all it took for them to recognise kindred spirits.’ It’s hard to keep the disgust out of my voice.
‘So you should be pleased neither of them is around to continue their killing spree.’
I take a deep breath, wondering if I can really trust the good doctor. ‘That’s the trouble,’ I say in a small voice.
‘That you’re pleased?’
‘I’m thrilled. I didn’t want Medici’s goons to kill Miller because deep down I think I wanted to kill him myself.’ It feels strange to say it aloud. ‘I thought I wanted to hand him over to the police, to do things properly. That’s what I told myself.’