You need blood to heal. I’ll call Pet.
Is that the guilt talking?
The trial’s tomorrow; you must look your most presentable.
That’s like a soldier donning his best uniform for the firing squad, isn’t it? Or fattening the calf for slaughter?
Wouldn’t you be whole when you face the flames?
I haven’t been whole for donkey’s years, either on the outside or the in.
Reckon I’m one to go quietly with bastard death? When you tie me to that stake tomorrow I won’t stop fighting, until the flames have ghosted me to ashes.
If I doubted that, do you think I’d have listened to you? Believed you? Conspired with you?
Conspired?
There’s a flaw in all leaders.
All men.
They believe only they can change the world. So they overlook the women who work, live and love at their shoulders.
Ruby, Kathy, Grayse, Sun…even Mother. You don’t reckon I can see their talents, power and danger?
You forgot one. My name is Liberty. And there’s power in a name.
I’ll ask again. Who the bloody hell are you?
Drink first. Slice a main artery on Pet, we can stich up after; you need the blood.
I bloody well won’t. Scars don’t heal on First Lifers: he’s not Blink.
Who is he that you care?
A human. Haven’t you been following? Sometimes they’re prey, sometimes predator. But never my dinner.
Not unless they want to be.
Delusion. It’s most self-serving.
Do you honestly believe the homeless living under London Bridge wanted to be consumed? Money. You despise, belittle and bewail it but yet you steal? You use it to acquire your needs or influence.
Never said I was consistent.
Even with Will. Coffee – wasn’t it? Your very first gift. Do you think he’d have noticed you, if you’d possessed as little as he..?
Pet, if you raise your gaze one more time, I’ll have you sent to Blink again for the night. He told me he’d felt the most after his time with you, since he’d been authored. I was overjoyed.
That’s dead heartwarming. I’ve had my fill; Pet, you can go now.
How about you tell me Blink’s secrets? The ones he was holding back from our Author.
I don’t have the foggiest, sweetheart.
They were about the kid. Come on, if you move your pawn, I shall move mine.
How about you play with your brother instead? I was never one for chess.
We’ve been playing chess since the first night. We have your file: every strength and weakness. I’ve analyzed you: you’re mine.
Another wanker wanting to own me? Now there’s a turn-up for the books.
Listen, Mr Blickle--
How about you listen – Jade Spider – because let’s cut the bollocks.
You were never here to help or save me. It’s not been about truth or witness.
All this time you’ve been waiting, listening and spinning your web. Knowing I was condemning myself to death with my own words. And what’s worse? Condemning my family too.
And what have you been doing, Light, if not spinning webs?
Me and you? We’re the same. You play with words, just the same as I do.
The difference is, you bint, there’s no fire with your name writ large on it at the center of my web.
So what is there? At the center?
That’d be telling.
Secrets – you’re seeped in them.
And you’re seeped in betrayal. I told you all great stories start with it.
Then death and hope. Do they come tomorrow?
You tell me. Except don’t waste your breath because how would I trust you?
I’m the best at what I do. Trust? Isn’t high on my agenda.
I’ve always had such green eyes; my mum said they were like jade. When I became a barrister… Everyone’s frightened of spiders, but it’s only the fly which needs fear.
The Blood Life Council understand that.
Bigger bleeding picture here than the Blood Life Council versus us Renegades. If the power of our venom’s abused..?
Yet every tosser’s shifting his feet like it’s somebody else’s responsibility. That’s how wars tear worlds apart.
We could hide. I’ve tried it. But then our safety wouldn’t be real.
Some bugger or other would use us as slaves, weapons or products. We’re not safe in the shadows.
We have to step into the light.
What have you done?
What your Council should’ve, if it’d had the balls.
This Red Room? The guns? Captains bluster? It’s all a screen for dramatic effect. The scenery in a play.
The real, raw power beneath? Quiet. Unassuming. Deadly.
Is me.
When – precisely – are you planning to scuttle onto the stage?
When I’ve spun a nest large enough to cage it – and no one can escape.
This inquiry is my chance; I warned you at the beginning.
Wait… Why am I getting..? This is outrageous…
Problem, sweetheart?
You don’t play chess?
I stick to saving the world.
Why is Captain repeatedly messaging me about a disturbance on London Bridge? A…march?
What in god’s name is this?
That’s the bloody cavalry.
NIGHT 14
I should be dead. I reckoned I would be. Two weeks ago? I’d have bet money on it: I was a dead man talking.
Yet life’s funny sometimes, or maybe nothing’s ever as simple as you think.
And I’m to believe you now? Why would that be, Light?
Because I’m here of my own freewill. Because every inquiry needs a conclusion. Because you and me? We’re the most unholy alliance of them all.
I’d have booted my own arse, if I’d even thought about joining forces with the Blood Life Council back in the day. But look at me now.
Here’s the thing: you adapt to survive – and I’m not ready for extinction.
Dramatic buggery, don’t you think?
Pure death sorted then? All records destroyed?
I didn’t think so.
Dramatic doesn’t even come close. With that CIE bint still in charge..? This is the beginning, not the end.
Tell me a story then this Easter night.
Make me believe.
It all started with simulated skin blood packets – miniature affairs – that could be taped over the heart. You’d be gobsmacked at the river of blood, which comes out of one of them, when a shiv gets rammed through. Still, I’d had to burrow the blade deep enough to get the right reaction from Plantagenet – he wasn’t that good an actor.
I’ll never forget the flash of pain and hurt in those amber peepers.
As I said, Plantagenet is no Laurence Olivier, because in those moments when our lips had met..? The poor git had forgotten the caper, lost in the touch, taste and love.
Plantagenet was the one, however, who always insisted a leader had to sacrifice: he was right. Except the difference was, I reckoned a leader should give their own blood and flesh.
Bleed for their people.
And this time?
As Plantagenet had lain beneath me, still hard and panting, and so bloody broken?
I’d known it was Plantagenet who was bleeding out.
Of course, after the staged death, came the betrayal.
‘My goodness, he truly was listening. I’d have owned your fangs before now, if I’d realised how useful you could be.’ Captain arched his hands on the ebony desk, in his regimented front office, which was flanked by steel filing cabinets. Stress relief toys were lined like legal crack for executives across his desk: the sun yellow ball with smiley face was taking the piss. Everything smelled of new carpets and bureaucracy.
‘I can even sing the alphabet,’ the yellow face was freaking me out, ‘backwards.’
‘Precious. Th
e thing I like best? I can make you sing anything I like.’ Captain snatched up a bendy man from his row of toys, fiddling with its legs. ‘Time is money you know; the Council doesn’t run itself. So..?’
‘Give over: you don’t run it either. Far scarier bastards than you fucked or fanged their way to the top.’
There went bendy man’s arms, as Captain twisted them all the way behind his back.
Captain gestured at the black masked freaks with their guns at my elbows. What did they reckon I was going to do? Make a run for it through the office’s high glass windows into the sun?
A colossus nudged me with a shooter’s snout: like I needed it spelling out. Or another bullet hole.
‘He still thinks he can act the hard man: how sweet. I shall endeavor to find a solution for that. I’m ever so good at taking down fellows, who consider they can simply swagger through Blood Life like they did their First: as if they’re legends. Is that what you believe, Our Light?’
Uncomfortable, I looked down. ‘I don’t believe in legends or myths.’
‘Excellent,’ Captain slammed his brown brogues – bang, bang – onto the shiny surface of the desk; the smiling yellow face rolled off, bouncing until it stopped against my foot, ‘because I make it my duty to slay legends. I cut them down to size. Too long have the old dominated; now I reduce mythic Blood Lifers from ancient bloodlines to sniveling cry-babies. Just like your file shows you broke when you were a slave. Would you enjoy being broken the same way again?’
I fought to keep my breath steady. I slouched, as I stuck my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket. ‘I’m not a masochist, mate. Don’t add me into this new world of yours. You came smashing into our lives; we were simply getting on with it. Staying in the shadows. We were hidden from…everything. No one saw us. Then you kidnap my family and send me on a mission to find the leader of the Renegades or do them in. So – job done.’ I started to slide out the disk from my pocket but then I heard fingers easing onto triggers. ‘How much of a daft berk do you reckon I am?’
Captain gave a smug smile, before gesturing to his guard dogs.
Click – I breathed out.
Captain waved me towards him, but instead I chucked the disk at his nut.
Captain fumbled, dropping the disk onto his lap.
I chuckled – for about three seconds – before Captain signed for his minion to punch my lip bloody.
I licked my lip and then chuckled again.
Snap – there went Mr Bendy Man’s neck. Captain hurled it against my chest, as if his toy’s death was my fault. Captain smoothed his hair, before slipping the disk into his computer. Then he pulled a face. ‘Sweets, if I wished to watch your homemade porn, then I’d…’ Suddenly he peered at the screen with comical urgency. ‘Plantagenet? You’re doing that with Plantagenet?’
‘Hope so, else I was truly bladdered and went home with a stranger by mistake.’
Captain’s leather chair squeaked, as he shoved himself up. ‘Let me make myself clear: are you in bed with the Magnificoe of your bloodline?’
Something was off here: it was shadowed in my memory. Something Captain had once said about Plantagenet – or the bloodline.
‘Why’s that a surprise? He was a slave.’
‘I was not aware.’
I frowned. I’d been right that there were scarier bastards than Captain – and they’d been the ones to hand over Plantagenet to Blake. The CIE bint had called Plantagenet tribute from the Magnificoes, but where had Plantagenet been before that?
Ruby had kept her family from me until the ‘60s, and by then Plantagenet had been gone. Just how long had he been missing?
Captain had his nose pressed close to the computer screen; he was entranced. I didn’t blame him; Plantagenet had that effect. ‘I’ve only heard descriptions,’ Captain breathed, ‘but none do Plantagenet justice. I must have him. He’d be the greatest legend of them all; so beautiful when he broke.’
I was cold all over. ‘Shame that. You’re too late.’
Captain’s gaze flicked to me, confused. Then he saw the tiny me on screen raise the shank above the unwitting Plantagenet.
‘No!’ Captain shook the computer, like he could stop past me, flopping back into the leather seat in shock, as Plantagenet’s scream echoed tinny, and the blood spurted.
Captain turned an appalled look on me, as if I’d just stomped on a butterfly. I guess I had. ‘What did you do?’
‘One leader of the Renegades: dead or alive. That was it, right?’
‘He was..?’ Captain shook his nut, as if clearing it of monstrous thoughts. You wouldn’t guess the bloke had noshed his way through his entire family.
‘First I got grabbed and tested on at these research labs. Then I’m rescued; it turns out by the Renegades. Plantagenet? He’s their leader. Now I’ve kept my side of your blackmail, so you give me Donovan, and we’ll be on our way.’
Captain considered me, steepling his fingers. ‘Why? What does this prove? Except you’re a murderer: I already knew you’re a yob, and your files detail your penchant for familicide--’
‘Not exactly a penchant…’
‘But this latest? A Magnificoe? You’ll be answering to the Order of Electors over Plantagenet’s death. They’re hardly in the twentieth century, let alone the twenty-first. They have no place in our future, but one thing I’ll say for them: they will make you regret this. I only wish I could be the one to ensure that regret.’
I shrugged. ‘If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride.’
Captain lunged over the table. Security held me still by my arms.
Fair fight, then?
I tensed, but Captain’s Blackberry beeped. He paused mid blow to search through his messages.
Then Captain’s mush lit up. He tucked the Blackberry back in the pocket of his cargo trousers, before forcing open my gob and tracing over my teeth…one…at…a…time.
No way was I letting Captain defile my fangs again.
‘Three guesses who that was?’
‘Prince Harry?’ I garbled through his fingers, ‘Adele? Robert Pattinson?’
Captain wrenched his hand out of my mouth and slapped me hard across the cheek. ‘Wrong. It was a ghost.’
‘Didn’t reckon you believed in all that.’
‘I’m a convert – since Plantagenet messaged me and sent evidence you’re the Renegades’ leader.’
‘You’re lying.’
‘Maybe. It seems, however, that someone has betrayed you – Renegade. Oh joy! Now I get to break you again and I was so worried I’d have to restrain myself.’ Captain placed his hand – almost tenderly – over the print, with which he’d marked me. ‘I shall burn you. But first? Will come the dark.’
You gave yourself up to him? To us? Sacrificed yourself with a staged betrayal?
There was no Judas?
Got it in one.
Why? Such absurd--
Risk?
Stupidity.
You must’ve known Captain hated you more than most other Blood Lifers. I’ve heard the tale many times of your first encounter: how you cost him a fang. He believed you to be the worst of the posturing old bloodlines, suited only to be swept away.
And he’s tried now: twice. I’m still here. All that? It’s why I was perfect.
The CCTV of Plantagenet’s death would only get Captain’s attention, and me into his office. I needed something, which would excite him. Then he’d let down his guard, allowing me beyond into the heart of the Council.
Into the Red Room.
And that something?
Was me.
The Red Room’s not most men’s idea of entertainment. I understand that Donovan’s here too, but being trapped with him..?
Captain wouldn’t be able to help himself once he had me as a shiny new toy: he’d play with me, make an example out of me, and then break me to pieces.
In here - with you.
The Jade Spider.
Me?
You reckon I’m
so daft I didn’t always know?
But why am I..? You can’t possibly have planned this whole rescue around me?
Power behind the throne: isn’t that what you were singing before? A bloke like Captain could never run a joint like this, not without serious backup.
The only thing I had to figure was whether you’d step out from behind the throne…and help us.
‘Why is Captain repeatedly messaging me about a disturbance on London Bridge? A…march? What in God’s name is this? ’
Liberty was gnawing on her long brunette fringe like it was some poor bastard’s jugular; that was one of her many tells. The bint didn’t reckon she had any, hiding behind a mask of cold efficiency, but I’d have cleaned her out at poker.
Liberty lobbed her Blackberry into her briefcase, along with copies of that night’s inquiry, before clicking it shut; the click was harsh in the hard shell of the Red Room.
I fought to keep my expression blank and still my tapping foot. Because tells?
Yeah, I had them too.
I swallowed, as hope unfurled its moth wings, fluttering in my guts.
Don’t let her cotton on yet…just a little longer…
Liberty’s jade peepers were assessing. She didn’t even need to speak to strip layers from my hide to wear as pretty looped necklaces.
Crimson. Scarlet. Red, red, red.
Every moment in that bleeding womb with Liberty, I’d been suffocated. Secrets Pied Piper danced from my tongue; I’d drowned in her.
I’d been fighting for my life with every word – every breath. From the very first night.
There’s a reason we fear spiders.
Suddenly pounding footsteps outside. The door yanked open. Womb torn bloody.
My cue.
I leapt over the desk, gripping Liberty around the neck.
Liberty had some balls though because she did nothing more than lean back, as if knowing I’d wanted a final, private word, allowing me to whisper, ‘That’s the bloody cavalry.’
Then there were hands clutching, hurting, ripping me away and slamming me against the wall, followed by a fist raised to smash across my mug. I glared Captain in the eye because this time when he duffed me up, it wouldn’t be in the dark, at gunpoint or through his elected.
Blood Renegades (Rebel Vampires Book 3) Page 25