by Lily Harlem
It might be crazy, but it was how I felt and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to change that.
* * * * *
“For crying out loud, Bea, where the bloody Nora did you disappear off to? It’s been manic here.”
My father stood at the front of the near-empty stall shoving wads of notes into his wallet. His ruddy cheeks were scarlet and despite the cold there was perspiration on his balding forehead. His part-time assistant, Teddie, was busy wiping down the bloodstained counters.
“Sorry, Dad.” I reached for a new white coat and shrugged into it. “I thought I saw Denny, went after him and then got waylaid.”
He looked up. “Really? Did you find the skinny bugger?”
“No, but I think I’ve met someone who can help.”
Dad’s face softened. Despite his rough edges I knew he’d been the only other person worried about Denny. “Yeah, who’s that then?”
Aimery stepped from behind me and held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, sir. I am Aimery Stone.”
Dad narrowed his eyes and I saw him swallow, his Adam’s apple struggling to bob under the too-tight collar on his blue shirt. “Aimery, unusual name.”
“Yes, sir, so I’m told.” Aimery smiled, a beautiful, wide smile that could charm a snake.
Dad also seemed beguiled, for he grinned back and took Aimery’s hand. “Roger Benton, proprietor of Benton’s Quality Meats and Offal.”
“Very pleased to meet you,” Aimery said, pulling in such a deep breath his nostrils widened. He blew it out slowly, glanced at me, then said, “Beatrice has been telling me how worried she is about Denny and how the police aren’t interested. I have connections, I am a lawyer, and I may be able to pull in a few favors and find something out.”
“Yeah,” Dad said. “That would be good. He might be a woolly-woofter but Denny’s a nice kid and my Bea has been in bits since he just upped and left.”
“So I gather.” Aimery turned to me. “And Beatrice in bits is the very last thing any of us want.”
His earlier words came back to me, she’ll die if everyone wants a piece of her, and combined with the chill of the market now seeping back into my bones, I was unable to suppress a shiver. It rattled up my spine then trickled to the ends of my fingers and the tips of my toes. I clenched my jaw to prevent my teeth from chattering.
“You should rest and have some nourishment,” Aimery said, resting his hand on my shoulder. “It has been an eventful morning and I am sure you are quite drained.”
“Yes,” I looked up at him. His eyes were soft and full of concern as he scanned my face. “I think that’s what I need, a rest.”
“Good girl, and then come to my office tomorrow about this time and we will see what information we have to go on.”
I looked at my father. “Is that okay with you, Dad?”
“Absolutely, love, you do what you need to do. I’m going to a meeting at the bank, but Teddie will manage if you want to nip off early.”
I opened my mouth to speak, surprised by Dad’s unusually easygoing attitude. It wasn’t that he was a slave driver, but he also didn’t give me any slack in my cold, physically exhausting job just because I was a girl or his daughter. I was expected to pull my weight, even if at times it just about finished me off.
“Great,” Aimery said with a nod. “Until tomorrow, Beatrice.” He turned and strode away.
“Seems like a nice guy,” Dad said, rubbing his chin and moving to my side.
We both watched him walk toward the end of the market, his paces long and fast, his head held high.
“Yeah, he is.” I was going to add apart from his weird vampire tendencies onto the end of my sentence but stopped myself. And I definitely didn’t mention that he had a gorgeous if intense friend who seemed convinced Aimery would share me with him.
That would all be too much for my father to handle. Hell, I was on the brink of not coping with it myself.
Chapter Five
The next morning was again bitterly cold and I started my butchering and packing jobs well before the sun came up. But inside I felt lighter. Thoughts of finding Denny warmed me as did the anticipation of seeing Aimery again.
Aimery wasn’t my usual type of guy, that was for sure. He was sophisticated and charming, a little odd too. Despite my being with him for well over an hour he hadn’t told me what football team he supported, which was practically unheard of in this neck of the woods.
Ryle also played in my thoughts as I packed a box of T-bones heading to a swanky eatery in Covent Garden. He’d been as mesmerizing as Aimery. Opposite to look at and perhaps with a little more of an edgy charm about him, but definitely like no man I’d met before.
“Hey, Bea, heard from gay-boy yet?”
It was Sean from the stall opposite. He’d been goading me all morning. Making lewd comments and suggestive remarks. Once, he’d even wandered over and thought it okay to slap my arse. I had to put my steaking knife down or run the risk of stabbing him—he definitely wasn’t worth the aggro.
Again ignoring him, I hung up my white coat and shrugged into an army-green parker and whizzed up the orange zipper. When I turned Sean was standing before me, blocking my way.
“Well ’av ya?”
“No. Not yet,” I said.
“I bet he got what was comin’ to him. Thank fuck, there’s lots of gangs around here that take out his sort. It ain’t fucking natural, is it?”
“Piss off,” I said, pushing past him. God, the guy was a moron.
“Ah, you’ll admit it eventually, Bea, that you fancy me and then…”
I pursed my lips, turned and folded my arms. “Then what?”
“Then me and you…” He made a grotesque face and an obscene grinding movement with his hips. “We’re gonna fuck ’til we bleed, baby. Yeah, that’s right. I’ll be the best you ever ’ad.”
“I doubt that.” I tipped my chin and stalked off, toward the Lindsay Street exit.
“Ah, but you do admit we’ll shag though, eh, eh?”
I flipped him my middle finger as I welcomed the sight of the bright morning sky.
“Bitch,” he shouted and then cackled loudly. I knew full well if Father had been within earshot Sean wouldn’t have dared say what he had, or maybe he was just stupid enough to. The guy was missing a few brain cells.
After dodging around the usual jam of trucks and vans I headed over Charterhouse and toward Smokehouse Yard.
It was the same as yesterday, still and quiet, the sun not penetrating the tall sweep of houses and the frost still thick on the ground. The windows were all dark, but when I glanced upward I noticed wisps of smoke coming from a few chimney pots.
There must be people living on this street. How odd that they weren’t heading out to work. Did they all conduct business from home? Were the kids all schooled by nannies in the comfort and warmth of their playrooms? Surely not.
I paused and studied the window nearest me, wondering if I could see any signs of life or get a clue to what was going on in this long row of houses.
Suddenly there was a flash of movement in the blackness. It was a man with light-colored hair coming into the room.
Gripping two black arrowheads on the row of railing, I leaned closer and went on tiptoes for a better look. I should have been worried about being spotted spying, but I didn’t care. I felt compelled to carry on watching.
Plus whoever it was in the room hadn’t seen me. His back was to the window.
Another figure, taller, wider, also male, went up to the first and wrapped his arms around him. They melted together, as though becoming one, kissing, cuddling. It was two men. I was sure of it. The way they stood, moved, their outlines.
The kiss heated. They were roaming their hands. A t-shirt was tugged off and tossed aside. The larger man stooped, kissed his way across the other one’s chest, down his sternum and abdomen before stopping at the fly of his jeans.
My heart rate picked up. What I was watching was private but I couldn’
t pull my attention away. I felt bound to watch. And although it was just a silhouette, a show swamped in dense shadows, it was erotic as hell.
The standing man weaved his hands into the other’s hair as his pants were pushed down his legs. His cock burst free, long and thin and standing proud. I wished I could see more, the color, the shape of the glans, did he have pre-cum waiting to be licked off?
It seemed he had and the other wanted it.
Holding my breath, I watched the tip of the kneeling guy’s tongue poke out and dip in. He was busy with his hands too, working the shaft, feeding it upward to the attentions of his tongue. A web of spittle hung in the outline between the two figures, connecting cock and mouth for the briefest of moments, then the giver of the blowjob sank deep, absorbing the entire shaft into his silhouette.
The standing man tipped his head back, his mouth opened and the angle of the weak shred of light hitting him shifted.
Suddenly I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach, a real whack to the guts.
Denny?
The standing guy looked just like him from what I could make out now. His profile, with a slightly oversized nose, the way his hair hung a little overlong.
Was it Denny? It sure as hell looked like him.
“Hey, flower, what you doin’? Waitin’ for me to give you a good fuckin’?”
I startled at the sound of Sean’s gritty voice and the feel of his hot breath on my neck. I’d been so engrossed in my voyeurism that I hadn’t even noticed him approaching or indeed following me.
“Get lost, dickhead,” I said. I had things to do. If that really was Denny in there I had to go to him, do something. Shit, but what could I do? If it was him he looked happy as Larry, that was for sure, and I couldn’t exactly interrupt.
I had to go find Aimery. Tell him what I’d just seen.
I tried to shove away from the fence but couldn’t move an inch. I was trapped. Sean had gripped the railings on either side of my hands and was pressing his body hard into my back. The spikes poked against my coat and into my chest. A bolt of fear ran through me. What felt revoltingly like his erection was jabbing though our clothing on to the small of my back.
“This how you want it?” he said into my ear. “From behind? In your pussy or up your arse? You choose; I don’t give a flying bollocks which.”
The stench of coffee and stale beer filtered to my nose and I shuddered. “Fuck off,” I said, jabbing my elbows back into his torso.
He didn’t budge from the impact. “Ah, you wanna play rough, do you? I can give you that and more.” He clamped a hand over my mouth and the other around my chest, above my breasts, then tugged me back, away from the railings.
I huffed in fury and writhed within his tough grip.
“You really think you can give me the finger in front of the whole market and get away with it?” He cackled, a nasty, sandpapery sound that chilled the pit of my stomach. I should never have underestimated the depths of Sean’s scumminess.
I glanced at the window again. I couldn’t see the fellating couple anymore. They’d either sunk to the floor or gone to bed. Capturing their attention for help was no longer an option.
Why does it have to be so freakishly quiet around here?
I squirmed harder and threw my head back, hoping to knock Sean off balance so I could wriggle away. But it did no good. This was a guy who’d traded intelligence for brawn and right now that worked in his favor.
“Get off,” I mumbled from behind his calloused hand. My heart was going at a dangerously fast pace, skipping and missing beats as it slammed against my sternum. “Mmmmmph.”
He spun us ’round, clamping my spine to his chest, and I saw to my horror that his squat white van was parked against the curb with the back doors flung open. The inside was lined with an old rug, and a spool of silver duct tape sat in the center. My gaze landed on a linen roll, the type used to transport knives.
Fuck!
I wanted to vomit. I wanted to scream. Shit, how could I not have heard him approach? I didn’t like the guy but I didn’t think he was this dangerous. It seemed I’d been wrong. Very wrong, and now I was going to pay the price.
He tugged me toward the van. Real primal fear knotted my belly, and adrenaline surged into my system. I fought all the harder, upped my wriggling and elbowing as though my life depended on it. I was beginning to believe that it did.
“Stop it, bitch, you know this is what you want. It’s what you asked for.”
His hold on me was unyielding, my feet were actually off the pavement now and he was carrying me, or rather bundling me, toward the van.
Shit, I was being kidnapped, about to be raped, possibly murdered, and in the broad light of day with Denny only feet away. This couldn’t be happening. I wouldn’t let this happen.
I tried to scream again but it came out as a muffled squeak, then I attempted to bite his finger but couldn’t make purchase.
The suspension of the van rocked as he shoved me inside. When he released me to grab the duct tape I scrabbled onto my knees, making the most of the freedom and trying to push past him, out of the half-closed door. “Leave me the fuck alone, you bastard, I—” My words were cut short.
I froze.
There was someone standing behind Sean—someone tall, with wild blue eyes and hair the color of the palest sand.
Ryle.
Sean must have sensed another presence or at least seen me look over his left shoulder, because he stopped unpeeling the tape and started to turn.
But he didn’t get the chance.
Ryle head-locked him at the same time as he landed a kidney punch.
“Ah, fuck,” Sean cried, slumping within Ryle’s grip. “You arsehole,” he gasped. He panted for a few seconds, flashing his gold teeth, and then straightened.
I saw the glint of a knife in his hand, a short one, not a butchering knife. The sort used for gutting small fish.
“Shit, he’s got a knife,” I shouted, backing away from Sean and heading deeper into the van, out of the way of the sharp blade.
Ryle stared at me, unblinking. His nose twitched and he licked his lips. “I’m sorry you have to see this, Bea. But it appears I have no choice.”
“See what?” I bunched my legs beneath me and wished my entire body wasn’t quaking so violently. It was out of control.
Sean grunted in anger, spittle flew from his mouth and he raised the knife, ready to stab backward, into the face of his attacker.
But he didn’t. The knife simply fell to the metal floor of the van, then bounced to the road with a clink. His hand splayed open, as though suddenly immobile.
Ryle had attached his mouth to Sean’s neck.
I blinked rapidly, hardly able to believe what I was seeing.
Sean had gone utterly still and a slim trickle of blood was oozing down the column of his throat. I stared as it slid over his cobweb tattoo to the pale green hoodie he wore. Red dribbles spread like oil over the material, making a finger-shaped pattern.
I started to scream, juddering my hands up to my mouth, but no sound came out. Fuck. Ryle was biting Sean, and if my human anatomy was half as accurate as my bovine then he’d gone right through his jugular vein.
But Sean wasn’t protesting. In fact, he had a look of almost bliss on his face. It was freaky as hell. His mouth was slack, his eyes closed and his limbs had relaxed at his sides.
“Oh Jesus Christ,” I gasped, clenching my fists and pressing them against my cold cheeks. I must be hallucinating. That was the only explanation. Because it looked like Ryle was sucking blood from Sean’s neck and drinking the life from him.
Vampire.
Fuck, so I hadn’t been foolish to think that yesterday. It was the only sane explanation. Except it was insane. Vampires didn’t exist. Not in the real world anyway. They were from books and movies.
I wanted to run away but I was gripped by the gruesome sight. My mind muddled with outlandish thoughts.
Sean had slumped now, his head l
olling to the side. His skin was paper-white and his lips tinged blue. A few puffs of his breath hovered around his face.
“Shit.” I managed. “He’s… You’re killing him.”
Ryle didn’t answer. His eyes were shut and he was gulping, his cheeks hollowing the way Aimery’s had when he’d sucked my finger yesterday.
Shit. Aimery too?
Of course he was.
My stomach knotted. My breath hitched. What the hell had I gotten myself involved with? This couldn’t possibly be happening. It was the stuff of nightmares.
“What is going on here?”
Aimery’s deep voice penetrated the sound of my pulse hammering in my ears. He stood behind Ryle, shirtless, shoeless and his hair mussed not in the careful way it had been yesterday, but flattened, as though he’d been in the shower and jumped out suddenly. His eyes were wide, his lips tight and his shoulders bunched toward his ears.
“Ryle. Stop,” he said.
Ryle ignored him.
“Ryle, for crying out loud. Remember where you are.”
Aimery’s harshly words appeared to jolt Ryle from whatever trance he’d fallen into. He lifted his mouth from Sean’s neck and stared directly at me. A fat drip of blood balanced on his chin.
I gasped. The sight of blood didn’t bother me in the slightest but the image of human blood smeared around someone else’s face made my stomach lurch. But despite this I couldn’t tear my gaze away. It was like a scene from a horror movie. I didn’t want to watch it but had to know what happened next.
Ryle licked his lips, rubbing his tongue over and around his teeth as though savoring the sticky sweetness of the scarlet mess. It had dripped down his neck onto the front of his white t-shirt, making him look like a trick-or-treater heading to a Halloween party. Though this was no party, the panic coursing through my veins told me that. And by the looks of it, Sean really was dead, or passed out at the very least. He hung limply over Ryle’s right arm, his face no longer visible as he’d bent double. He must have been some weight, all floppy like that, but Ryle didn’t appear to notice.
