My father, I see him. I don't know how I know it's him, but I know it. He’s handsome. He and my mother…. Oh. Wait. What? Back, go back. Ferrers. What is he doing there? Oh god no!
Rachel. Richard. Others. I don’t know who they are. Mickey. Sean.
My head pounds.
It hurts.
Make the images stop.
My father is here. He's close. He's come for us. Kurt, yes Kurt. He's following me, and he's following my mother.
Further, farther back, before now. My mother crying, my father has disappeared. I feel her pain, her tears. Kasper, yes that's his name. I know that, Kurt told me. Am I dying? Why are other people's lives flashing before me? Is this how it works? My brain must be shutting down; it's trying to reorganise itself, ordering things, reorganising things and filling in the gaps. My brain is dying and using its final moments to do one massive defrag.
God, I'm so cold.
Rachel, that damn vampire. Dying? Too bad. Such a bitch.
Wait, more, what's this? Richard, meeting Rachel for the first time. A nightclub. Blood. Sex. Whoa, that's weird. Kinky stuff. Brain please move on. A house in the country, the three vampires living together.
No, not to that. There's the man who is my father. Why is he there? Sean? No, stop it, stop hurting him. Wait, why he is so young? Oh my God, no he's a vampire, he's a damn vampire. What the fuck?
Whoosh. Another storyboard of memories rattles its way through my brain, planting seeds where they don't belong. Everything connects. Confusion. Connections gone. New things, new thoughts. Things make sense then they slip away. What's going on? I feel like a third party watching my life, it's like a film, playing in a loop in my head.
Everything is in the wrong order. It doesn't make sense. Other people now. People I don't recognise. Death. Fangs tearing at flesh.
Time passes, images rush through my mind, a collage of other people's lives. People. Vampires. Places. I see everything. I know everything. I know why they're all here. Why I'm here.
My brain. It's on fire. Someone help me. Wake me up. Wake me up...please.
26
Kasper paced the cellar floor. "Is she healed? Is she going to be okay?"
"Yes, she is," Ferrers replied, gently placing Sophie’s body down on the ground. "She'll wake soon."
"Will she remember?"
"It's too early to say. The last few days will probably be hazy, but I very much doubt her long-term memory will be affected. That's what you wanted - is that correct?"
"I don't want her to remember me. I will take her to her home, place her in her bed and it will be as if nothing has happened. One glass of wine too many and more sleep than usual."
"That may not be possible," Ferrers said. "Bethesda is, what? Twenty, thirty minutes away. She may well waken before then. You should give some thought to what you will tell her. "
Kasper kneeled over Sophie's body. "She looks feverish. Are you sure you haven't given her too much? You haven't... you haven't...turned her have you?"
Ferrers arched an eyebrow. "Dear boy, you know me better than that. I wouldn't turn anyone I didn't intend to. I gave her enough to heal, muddy her memory a little, but that's it."
Kasper's gaze returned to the recumbent body of his daughter. She twitched.
"She should wake soon though?" Kasper asked, placing a palm on his daughter's forehead. It was hot. Clammy.
"I would imagine so.”
"And Kurt?”
"He may need more time. It is perhaps best that I'm not here when that happens. His amnesia will be greater. It could confuse things. And of course there is the matter of Sophie to consider. After all, we have met before. It would be wise that we don't meet until her state of mind is established."
Kasper nodded, running his fingers through Sophie's hair, brushing it from her face. It was matted in places, from the blood.
Ferrers slid his arms in his overcoat and adjusted the collar. He removed gloves from its pockets. “I shall take the manuscript. When your brother finally awakes he will think he has been burgled. I'm sure you can stage that quite effectively. He'll have no recollection of our meeting, but it's too early to say if he will remember you, Kasper. This is a situation you must keep me appraised of. Agreed?"
Kasper nodded. The deal with the devil had been made. In return for an assurance of safety for Sophie and Kurt, he would remain in Ferrers' debt. Ferrers would take the manuscript and see it was returned to its rightful owners. He would tell them that the matter had been dealt with. They would leave it at that - hopefully. No recriminations. No follow up investigations about Kurt or Sophie.
Kasper knew it was an empty trade in many ways. Ferrers already had the manuscript and would take it. He probably wouldn't kill Sophie either, not yet anyway, Kasper thought. Still, he needed some assurance that he wasn't going to turn her either. And he needed his brother saved. He also had to ensure that there was no risk of further vampires coming and poking their nose in this manuscript business - not just for Kurt and Sophie, but also for Julie's sake.
"So you will visit me soon?" Ferrers said, pulling the cuff of a glove firmly on to his wrist. It wasn't a question despite the inflection in his voice.
Kasper nodded again.
"And you will keep me informed of Sophie's progress. She is partly mine, after all."
"Yes. I will do as we agreed.” Kasper rose to his feet. He looked around at the spilled paint cans, tipped chairs, Richard's body. “I will clear up the remainder of this...mess... and will contact you to let you know how things are going."
"And you will visit?"
"Yes"
"And you will take care of any further troublesome situations with your brother?"
"I told you I would."
"Good." Ferrers slipped on the other glove, then brushed down his lapels. "I'll make arrangements for you to stay."
"Stay?" Kasper asked, frowning.
"Yes, if you're going to look after your daughter, then we need to ensure that proper arrangements are put in place. You'll need an income. A suitable place to stay. I will advise the Byzantines that this little matter is resolved and I'm appointing you as my de facto deputy in this little corner of the world. It will prevent further interference and provide all of us with a little assurance that we'll have no more bother."
Kasper watched Ferrers adjust his collar. "Your deputy?" he asked.
"Yes," replied Ferrers with a smile. "I rather like the sound of that."
"What do you mean... deputy? An enforcer, a spy?"
Ferrers waved a dismissive hand and turned his attention to Rachel. She had regained consciousness and was clumsily attempting to click her head back into its correct position. He rolled his eyes. "Rachel, do try to not be so dramatic."
She sneered and wrenched her head back into place with a click.
Ferrers put his hand on Kasper's shoulder. He felt something stir inside him.
"You were never this tiresome Kasper."
"No," Kasper said, "I don't suppose I was." He remembered the fights and tumbles they had shared. There weren't any fond memories buried beneath them. "So, you are leaving?"
"Yes," Ferrers said with conviction, buttoning up his overcoat." This place seems to bring out the worst in me, which I rather like. The past few days have felt like the old days; I feel like myself again. Time to get back to work I think."
"Back to work?" Kasper asked.
"Yes, I retired after your... departure. I see now that my talents have been somewhat wasted, and now I know you are safe and well and will have need of me as your mentor, I think I shall return to my duties."
"Mentor? For what?"
"Well my dear boy, if you are going to be my deputy, I must ensure that I'm seen as powerful. I will need to be in position to impart all I know to you. I have no choice really."
"But, it's you who are making me your deputy! I haven't asked you to do this."
Ferrers made a tutting noise with his tongue. "Semantics, dear boy, semantics."
/>
Kasper didn't think it was semantics at all, but he kept quiet. Arguing was pointless. He had made his bed. He now had to lie in it. He just wished that bed didn't contain Ferrers.
Rachel stood up, rubbed her neck and adjusted her dress.
“I think it will do Rachel good to see a little of the world, "Ferrers said.” I think some time away from all this might help her get some perspective."
"And you will go back to enforcing?" Kasper asked.
"Yes," Ferrers replied. "I think they call it "fixing" these days. It sounds less brutal doesn't it? Apparently it's a job that humans think that they've invented. Funny things, people, all so terribly small. I'm sure the Byzantines may have some further work once they've satisfied themselves that this little mess is sorted. Besides dear boy, we can't very well have lots of troublesome vampires, or humans for that matter, running amok and starting a revolution can we? The status quo is serving us well."
Kasper looked at his brother's body, wounds healing and heart beating. "Is that a warning?" he asked.
Ferrers put his hand on Kasper's shoulder and stared him in the eye. "“Between us? How can you ask such a thing? Tut, tut. But you know as well as I do that if you go public, if you try to live out in the open with Sophie or her tart of a mother, then you will be destroyed. It will also put her life at risk and I plan on her living forever."
Ire shook Kasper to the core, but he swallowed it down. Julie was no tart and his daughter wasn't going to live forever. She was going to have a short, human, healthy life with ups and downs, kids and a good death.
"I won't say anything," said Kasper." I'll be a good boy and do my job. I'll keep an eye on things here and I'll be here for Sophie if she needs me. "
Ferrers didn't reply. He smiled, slipped a card with the address and telephone number for his Warwickshire home in the pocket of Kasper's leather jacket and silently left the house, taking the manuscript and a frustrated Rachel with him.
27
Everything halts. I open my eyes and see the world.
The cold floor of the cellar was soothing. The chill permeated my clothing and cooled my skin. My pulse pounded in my ears, a quick, rhythmic thud. I felt a tingle in my fingers and in my toes. Minor muscles contracted deep in my body. Something has shifted, I thought, but I'm alive.
I ran my tongue over my top teeth. Nothing irregular there. Not a vampire... yet. Will I be? What does it all mean, I asked myself.
There was a funky taste in my mouth. My hands felt numb and twitchy at the same time. I pushed myself upright with my palms and scanned the room.
Kasper had his back to me. He was taping up what looked a lot like Richard, my former neighbour, into a tarpaulin with duct tape.
Father. My first thought.
Murdering bastard. My second thought.
My skin prickled, blood boiling beneath it.
"You son of a bitch," I yelled, jumping to my feet. I felt weirdly agile. Brave. Angry. Yes, really, really angry.
Kasper's gaze met mine as he looked over his shoulder. He began to straighten his legs, but I planted my right boot firmly into the small of his back.
He tumbled.
"So, you're him are you?"
I kicked him again, hot with rage and with strength I didn't know I had. My limbs felt strong. My reach long. My speed quick.
"Sophie, please. Don't do this." Kasper extended an open hand in my direction.
I kicked him again, but he didn't retaliate. On his back like an upturned tortoise, he rocked with each blow, his hands in the air for balance rather than protection.
"You come here..." Kick."... Running to my rescue..." Kick."...After leaving my mother..." Pant." After having poor, innocent Sean..." Kick. "... killed."
Tears streaked my cheeks as I kicked the hapless creature again. He did nothing, though I knew he could kill me. In my fevered dream, I'd seen all the terrible things he had done over the years. I knew that he was true. I knew that everything I'd seen was true. In that moment when Ferrers’ venom charged my system, I had somehow become connected to my whole family, even the supernatural ones, right down to the vampires they'd made and the innocents they'd killed. The battle between his healing yet unholy secretions and the DNA of both my parents, created a bizarre psychic melting pot of not just my own memories but of theirs. The memories jangled in my head, trying to find context and space. Emotions came with them, urges I didn't understand. For the first time in my whole life, I felt complete and utter rage.
"Sophie, halt, stop this." I spun on my heel and saw Kurt. He was dazed but alive. He blinked, trying to focus. "He is your father,” he pleaded, dragging his body into an upright position.
"Wow," I sighed sarcastically, lifting my palms to the air in exclamation. "Well, aren't the hills just alive with the sound of happy music at that thought - NOT?"
Kasper staggered to his feet. Clearly the amnesia wasn't going to cover as long as period as he would have liked. "Kurt, careful, you've been through a lot." He turned to me. "He is right Sophie. I am your father. This is your uncle. Do you remember him?"
"Of course I fucking remember him." I poked a digit repeatedly into my temple. "I'm not bloody tapped am I? Not senile! What? You expected me to be all oh-so-forgetful did you? Think again. I know what you are. You're a murderer. You killed my friend. You killed Sean."
Kasper lowered his gaze. "That wasn't intentional." He wanted to know how I knew, but the answer was pointless. All that mattered was that I did.
"I can read you like a bloody book," I yelled. "What have you done to me? What have you put in me?"
"Sophie, I...."
"Oh, shut up Daddy Dearest. Aaargh, my head." I grabbed my skull with both hands, doubled in pain. Being near Kasper was awful. I could sense his emotions. I wanted to be close to him, but it was painful. His confusion and regret were overwhelming my anger. Pain. So much pain.
I curled my fingers so tight that my nails dug into the flesh of my hands. I held them out before me. My palms were decorated with little half-moons of blood.
"Listen to your father Sophie," Kurt whispered. "Let us help you. It's true, he is not like other vampires. He can help."
"Fuck you," I spat.
Kurt looked at Kasper. “Kasper, do something.”
Kasper's eyes darted from his brother to me. "Sophie, where does it hurt? What can I do to help?"
The wave of pain washed away. Like a contraction, I braced myself for the next tide of searing heat to rip through my brain, but enjoyed the respite.
"Help?" I said. "You think you can help me? Well, screw you, Kasper the fucking friendly vamp. You should have just taken me to a hospital or left me to die if this is what your attempts at healing look like."
"Please don't talk like that," Kurt cried. "Don't do this." He swayed a little, each word taking energy from him that he didn't yet have.
"Me? Me don't do this? You want to talk about people not doing things?" I yelled, stabbing the air with my finger. "Well, what about you, creeping about. Lurking. Spying. Stalking my mother! Yeah, let's talk about people stopping shall we? Let's fucking start with you, shall we?"
Kurt looked at my father with pleading in his eyes. The look said, "What do I do?"
"I don't blame you Sophie," Kasper said, quietly and evenly. He had made it to his feet while I directed all my vitriol at Uncle Stalker. "You should be angry. I'm angry. I didn't ask for this, but this is the hand I've been dealt. And this is the hand you've been dealt."
My whole body shook, an overwhelming urge swept me up, to a point when the sole thing I wanted to do was hurt something, hurt someone, and kill something. "Don't you bloody talk to me, don't you dare!" I said, directing all my anger at Kasper.
The vampire opened his arms and embraced me. I struggled, but his grip was too strong. My tears and snot stuck to the shoulder of his leather jacket as he pressed me into it.
I don't want this, I told myself. This is wrong; I don't want this. But I guess something about Ferrers’ veno
m had awakened something in me I'd never allowed myself to acknowledge before.
I'd never known it, but vampire DNA was in my genetic make-up. Perhaps that was why I've never been sick as a child; perhaps it was why I'd never mourned the absence of my father. I didn’t know. I didn’t think I ever would. What I did know, however, was that there was a comfort in Kasper's arms and I couldn’t say if it was because it was familial, some peculiar type of vampire bond.
The voices and images in my head began to dissipate. A stillness descended.
But the moment quickly passed.
"Brother, are you well?" Kasper asked Kurt over my shoulder.
"I think so, yes." The sound of shuffling along the ground.
Brother. Something switched in me. Reality pulled me back and I saw them - the faces of another two brothers. Sean, sweet, innocent. Murdered at the hands of Kasper and the brutish vampires he'd chosen to affiliate himself to rather than wander the earth alone. Then Mickey. Poor, hapless, injured Mickey. My hero. The man I might possibly love. They had been nothing but kind and affable and wonderful and vampires, no, wait, this vampire had been responsible for destroying them.
I tore myself away from Kasper's embrace. I wanted to kill him, rip him apart, but if I did then Ferrers would come back. Ferrers was worse. No matter how much I hated my father, Ferrers would destroy us all - he'd turn me, kill my mother and own me for an eternity. He thought of himself as my supernatural grandfather, but I knew he prized Kasper above me. If there was a choice, he'd choose Kasper any day.
"You stay away from me," I spat. "Both of you. I never want to see either of you again."
"Sophie, wait." It was Kurt, his voice still weak and confused but ripe with yearning.
"Let her go," I heard Kasper say from behind me. "Neither of us is going anywhere. Give her time."
I raced up the wooden steps, swung open the wooden door of the cellar and raced out of the house to the street. It would be the last time I would see them together for some time.
Sophie Morgan (Book 2): Death in the Family Page 23
