The Enemies of Vengeance

by P. A Ross

  I saw the homeless shelter up ahead and a group of men outside smoking tiny rolled up cigarettes. The shelter looked like something that had been built in the seventies. It was a one level brick building, with looped barbed wire encircling the rooftop and dirty steel heating equipment kicking out steam.

  The men stared at me but said nothing. They just continued smoking and talking to each other. I walked passed them into a small hallway with a notice board of events. Next, I went into a sleeping area of camp beds laid out in neat rows. The beds already had belongings scattered over them, with people claiming their territory. I walked through the aisle of beds and into an eating area with rows of tables and benches half occupied. I had been told I would find Miss Jones near the kitchen or in the office at the back.

  "Who are you?" A man garbled with a mouthful of bread. He stood up from a long table and walked over. "I asked you a question."

  The man was obviously a regular attendee of the shelter. Although his clothes were dirty, he looked reasonably clean underneath and not too skinny. His attitude gave away his sense of ownership of the shelter. This was his place, and he clearly knew most people that attended and I looked out of place.

  I stared at the man to let him know I wasn't intimidated. "I am looking for Miss Jones. I believe she runs this place."

  "And, your business with Marcy is?"

  "None of your business. Now tell me where she is?"

  The man looked at the tables of others eating. "Boys, we have a problem."

  "Yes, Tommy," one of them said and stood up. The rest of the men and couple of women all pushed back their food, clambered out of the benches and congregated behind him.

  Tommy scanned his gang, turned back and smiled, revealing missing and blackened teeth, and a foul-smelling breath of stale smoke and whiskey. "It is our business. We are going to protect our own from now on. After what happened to our Mary-Anne and the attack on Marcy the other day, no stranger like you can just wander into this place and start making demands. So I suggest you start talking, sunshine."

  I scanned the group of homeless people. I could easily beat this rabble. I would strike Tommy and he would crash into the rest, taking them down. Then I would hit the next nearest and take them out of action. This would probably send the rest into flight mode. But I wasn't here to fight.

  "She is expecting me. Tell her Jon is here and that Tracey Horn sends her regards."

  Tommy's eyes widened and he nodded his head frantically in agreement. "Of course, sorry, sorry. I didn't know you were friends with Tracey," he said and turned to the back of the hall and shouted, "Marcy, you have a visitor." The gang of homeless people went straight back to their food. A couple of them arguing over who owned which bowl of soup. Tommy went off to mediate.

  From the back of the hall, which joined into the kitchen, an older grey haired woman walked out. She had a green plastic apron over a long sleeved red shirt, and she wiped her hands on the back of her jeans. She smiled and wrinkles formed around her eyes. She walked across the hall and held out a hand. "You must be Jon," she said. I nodded and put my hand in hers and shook. "Tracey gave me a description. And you obviously aren't here to use the shelter."

  "Thorn, I mean Tracey told me to come and visit you first."

  "Follow me into the back, we can talk properly in there," she said and headed in the direction of the kitchen.

  I followed on after her and noticed Tommy keeping an eye on me. We went through the kitchen with the sinks full of dirty bowls and plates, and a pot of tomato soup still simmering on the hob. We headed into a small hallway and then into an office on the left.

  The office was crammed with filing cabinets, and had one main work desk, a low coffee table and a set of orange plastic chairs. On the wall, there was a montage of photos from the homeless guests that had stayed at the shelter.

  She spun around a black chair from the desk and sat down, and then offered me one of the orange plastic chairs stacked at the side. I pulled it out and sat opposite her.

  I looked past Marcy to the desk and saw three photos on it. The first one was of Thorn, but even though she hadn't aged, I could tell it was from a long time ago. Thorn had blue eye shadow, black bobbed hair, and a black and white chequered mini dress on. It was sixties fashion. The picture next to it was of Annabel and Lucinda, the two girls Thorn and I had rescued from a gang. They looked different from when I last saw them; they were smiling and looked clean. I was glad to see their lives had changed and that I had made a difference.

  The final photo was of another woman in her early twenties. She had light brown mousy hair and blue eyes. She looked like the average girl next door.

  "I see you are admiring my photos," Marcy said as she turned around in the chair to look at them. She picked up the photo of Thorn and passed it to me. "I tell everyone this is a woman called Tessa Horn. She took me off the streets. She became my guardian, and she's the one that helped fund the homeless centre. Whenever Thorn visits, I always tell them it is Tessa's real daughter, Tracey. We tell everyone that Tessa died some time ago and that the trust fund to run the homeless shelter is now administered by Tracey."

  I held the photo and stared down to into Thorn's sky blue eyes lined with thick black mascara. "I guess it's an easy way of passing down her wealth, pretending to be her own daughter." I handed the photo back to Marcy.

  Marcy took the picture frame and placed it back onto the desk. "She has been doing it for generations. Tracey is the latest incarnation of herself, but it is always a T Horn, so it becomes Thorn. There has been a Tracey, a Tessa, Tabatha, a Tilly, and a Tallulah, as far as I know."

  "I'm sure there have been many. I didn't know she used this method of passing down her money. She has never told me about her time with you and her identity of Tessa."

  "I'm sure she still has lots of secrets from you. But who wouldn't at her age. Having lived so many different lives and in so many different places, it must be hard to remember everything worthwhile repeating."

  "And Annabel and Lucinda, are they doing okay?" I asked, looking at their photo.

  "Yes, both of them are enrolled in College. Annabel is studying catering, and Lucinda is studying accounting. It took a while to gain their trust, but we are moving in the right direction thanks to Thorn's help."

  "The other woman, is this your daughter?"

  Marcy stared at the photo, picked it up and continued looking at it as she spoke to me. "Not biologically, but I've always thought of her as a daughter. She is someone I helped off the streets, just as Thorn helped me off the streets. Her name is Mary-Anne."

  Marcy's eyes began to well up. "Is everything okay, is there anything I can help with, Thorn said there may be some issues."

  "Mary-Anne has been in a little bit of trouble recently. I'm sure she can take care of herself. However, last time she was here, she attacked a gang that had barged their way in. She hurt them badly; she's a martial arts expert. Unfortunately, I think the gang will return to exact revenge, and if Mary-Anne isn't here, they will find others to hurt."

  "Let me know if you have any issues, and I will try to scare them off permanently."

  "Thank you, Jon. Thorn normally takes care of this for us or hires someone to protect us. Normally we don't stop the gangs if they invade the shelter, but Mary-Anne lost her temper and it's provoked them."

  "It will be no problem. Let me give you my phone number," I said and handed over my phone with the number displayed. Marcy grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled it down.

  She then pulled out a key from her pocket and placed it in my hand. "You will need this key. It opens a self-storage unit four miles away. I will write the address down. In the storage unit, you will find weapons and money for you to fulfil your mission and do a little house hunting."

  I pocketed the key and the piece of paper with the address into my back pocket.

  "I best be going if I'm to visit the self-storage and then get the late train to Leeds. But if anything happens give me a call stra
ight away. Do as Thorn says and don't engage the people in any conflict. I will take care of them on my return."

  "Good luck on your journey, Jon. We will see you on your return."

  I said goodbye, stood out of the chair and shook Marcy's hand. I headed back through the kitchen, dining hall and back onto the street. I waved to Tommy as I left and he looked away to his gang of followers.

  I walked back down Winchester Street, following the route back to the tube station, past the police tape and the boarded up houses. I looked up the location of the self-storage unit and planned out my journey via the tube. It would only take me half an hour to get there, which would leave me enough time to get the train to Leeds.

  I navigated through London's underground and walked the final way to a big yellow self-storage unit. I went inside, presented my key and credentials to a bright red haired lady with red glasses. She tore herself away from the TV and pulled out a red book. I signed in. She walked around the desk and set off down the grey corridors, which had rows of locked yellow doors. As we walked, the lights flicked on above and we took several turns to Thorn's locker.

  The locker was one of the bigger ones in the warehouse. I waited for the receptionist to leave before putting in my key and opening up, as I wasn't sure of what might be inside. I pulled the door to and switched on the light. Inside were a stack of boxes labelled with different letters on them. On top of the first set of boxes was an envelope marked V in big black marker pen. I opened it up and poured out the contents. Inside was a map of the boxes, each label referring to its contents. Also, there was a letter from Thorn, telling me she had arranged for this stuff to be put together for our return.

  I scanned down the list: weapons, money, clothes, computers and others. The weapons box was marked with a big W. I grabbed it first and ripped off the tape. Inside were three metal cases. I lifted out the first and opened it. A pistol lay encased in foam and two sets of bullet magazines. The next had another handgun the same. The last case had a set of three silver knives. I took one of the pistols and clunked in the magazine, flicked the safety on and shoved it into the back of my jeans.

  I opened the box mark M next. Inside was a large metal tin. I prized off the top and found rolls of cash in different currencies. I took a few rolls of British pounds and a few rolls of Euros. I had money anyway and a credit card if things got desperate, but I preferred to use cash.

  I went through each box in turn. I left the computers packaged up as I already had one. I had enough clothes so opened the box marked, Others. The box had several other boxes and an envelope on the top. I opened it up to find another list of inventory: Jewellery, car keys, gold, mobile phones, and first aid kit.

  I took the first aid kit and shoved it into my rucksack. I opened the smaller box with car keys written on. Inside was a set of car keys and folded up piece of paper with a description of the car and its address.

  The car was only parked a few miles walk away, so I bundled all the stuff into my bag, locked up, signed out and walked to its location.

  The car was located in a secure underground garage of an apartment block, and Thorn had rented one of the parking spaces. The car was a black Audi sports Quattro, a good fast car, but not too flashy that it would draw attention.

  I triggered the ignition and the engine hummed into life. I typed in Leeds into the inbuilt satnav and fired up the radio. I drove out of the garage and followed the satnav to the motorway. I was going back to my hometown, back to where I first started this journey, back to take my final revenge on the O'Keefe family.

  Chapter Four

  I drove up the motorway to Leeds. I was planning on staying in the city centre, but I saw the hotel that I had stopped in on my last visit with Scarlett. I immediately hit the indicator and swung in towards the hotel, having instantly made my mind up to stop there for the night. The hotel was a member of a large chain. The branding made it look like the other indenti-kit hotels throughout the country with the half moon symbol with zzz flowing out of it. I checked in at the reception and got a room.

  Thankfully, I wasn't in the same room as before or the same floor, but just being in the same hotel brought back enough memories. I took my stuff up to the room and dumped it on the double bed with a purple bedspread and sat on it. Although it was a different room, they all looked very much the same with purple bed covers, curtains, white walls and brown carpets. I couldn't help but think that Scarlett was next door, just as she had been the last time we visited.

  Last time we were here, I had thought our relationship may have been rekindled. I had left Thorn on the road to Seattle after discovering she had lied to me about vampires and her promise to make me like her. I had flown back to England to get answers. I visited Scarlett first to find out if she had anything to do with the Hunters. I had suspected she was part of the conspiracy, having set me up to take the formula and then trying to capture me at the night club.

  I had quizzed her on her involvement and been convinced of her innocence. I asked her to come with me to Leeds to speak with my dad and find out if he was also innocent. She had agreed to help me out, and we had stopped at the hotel the night before I confronted my dad.

  That night at the hotel, I had thought about knocking on her door and using my seductive powers. However, I had made a promise to Thorn and I intended to keep it. I was glad now I had stayed away, but I wish I had never asked Scarlett to travel with me.

  Since the events at the car park and being captured by the Turned, I hadn't seen Scarlett. The last time I saw her, she had escaped the clutches of a Turned vampire and was running to safety. I had thrown a knife into the back of the chasing vampire, it evaporated to dust as it grabbed hold of her shoulder. Scarlett had screamed and brushed off the dusted vampire before disappearing into the stairwell. I hoped she managed to get to safety.

  Thorn promised to use her contacts to search for her. I doubted if Thorn had really done this, so I had hacked her emails to find the proof that she had employed private detectives to search for her. She had but there were no leads. I just hoped that she was okay. I should have left her in London with her new boyfriend. It was wrong of me to drag her into my dangerous life; none of this was her fault after all.

  The next day I woke up early, grabbed a big breakfast and headed off to the prison to wait for Kieran's release. The prisoners were released between nine and ten in the morning, so I planned to get there ten minutes beforehand.

  I took the last turn in and drove past the main part of the prison, a huge grey stone building. Towers marked each corner of the front of the building and in the centre a large green solid metal studded gate in between two towers. The towers and prison front had fortified brickwork and arrow loopholes. I noticed newer prison buildings out the back, and adjoining new red brick walls to the castle front with looped barbed wire scrolled across the top. The old castle had been converted into a prison, but only the front remained to show signs to its historic past.

  I felt uncomfortable near the prison, the layers of security intruding on my thoughts, the barbed wire cutting through my senses. A Union Jack flag fluttered a top of each tower while the grey clouds bore down on the stony walls, forcing the depressive atmosphere further inside. A growing dread emanated from the prison walls, and I could sense the inmates were suffering at the hands of others.

  I was a wanted man in the UK for the killings of the O'keefes and gang in the park when I first transformed into a Dragan. I could end up in a prison cell, locked behind these fortified walls and barb wire fences. But if I were unlucky, the Hunters and Turned would get to me first and my fate would be worse than imprisonment.

  I swung the car around and reversed into a parking space along the road opposite the green metal gate. I put on a baseball hat and sunglasses to hide. I didn't want Kieran spotting me as he left. I wanted to pick my time and place to reveal I had come back for him.

  On the road opposite the castle front, a blue pickup truck with bull bars on the front wedged itself into a
parking space between a blue Nissan Micra and a black saloon car. On the other side of the road was a fenced off area and one storey modern brick buildings. It looked like the staff parking and offices from the activities of the prison officers inside.

  I watched the prison gate waiting for Kieran to walk out. I still wanted my revenge if only for the sake of closure. I wanted to get it over and done with as soon as possible, so I could get back to Thorn. I didn't like the idea of her being surrounded by her ex-lovers.

  The prison reminded me that Giles's mother was locked up somewhere in Leeds as well. I could have stopped her imprisonment if I hadn't been on the run with Thorn. The thought of Giles's mum suffering inside a similar prison gave my revenge a renewed rigour. I would ensure Kieran suffered.

  At 9:30 AM, a little door inside the main green gate opened up and out stepped three men. Behind, the prison guard shut the door and it clunked into place. The first man out of the prison was Kieran. His hair was cut short but still greasy. He wore grey trainers and blue jeans. He wore a black t-shirt, showing off his tattoos on both forearms and carried a black leather jacket and a brown paper bag in the other hand.

  The doors to the blue Nissan Mirca swung open, and an over-sized woman in a grey tracksuit pushed herself out and held herself up on the door. She puffed with the exertion, reddening her face. Her grey and white hair had been scruffily tied back.

  On the other side of the car, a younger woman got out and pulled down her black mini skirt from where it had hitched up in the car. She wore a leopard skin top, and her bottle blonde ponytail stuck out to the side of her head.

  He spotted them and walked over. The younger blonde woman shuffled around the car in her tight skirt and white high heels. The women stood together, and he held out his arms as he walked towards them. They both hugged him. It was his mother and eldest sister.