Daemons of London Boxset (Books 1-3) The Bleeders, The Human Herders, The Purebloods

by Michaela Haze

  “This is the Mark of a daemon?” I spread out of my fingers to appraise the mark.

  Henry nodded and put his hands around my waist, drawing me in. With my high heels, my cheeks were level with his. He pulled us towards the bar, where a stocky man who looked more like a Shar-Pei than a daemon pushed two shot glasses against the black obsidian. One had vodka for me, and blood for Henry. I suppressed a shudder and took the shot, allowing the warmth to blossom in my stomach. I made a circular motion with my hand and the bartender refilled my shot glass.

  “If you drink anymore, you’re going to be positively flammable.” A voice whispered in my ear. It was William Kain. I turned around and gave him a glare. He shrugged in response, naturally, I wasn’t very intimidating.

  “So you brought young Fear to the Fold?” William remarked casually.

  “Fear?” I questioned. “It’s Fia.”

  The music pulsated and I closed my eyes, lulled by its hypnotic sound. Heat flushed through my fingers and down to my toes. I felt dizzy. I excused myself and turned to seek the bathrooms. Henry looked concerned as I began to walk away, but when I smiled in reassurance he relaxed.

  I weaved through the throng. The people of the club looked perfectly human, apart from the icy chill from the lack of their body heat. Out of the corners of my eyes, I swore I could see energy like dust motes swirl in the air around them. Bright puffs of smoke in different hints of colours. When I drew my attention to them and faced them directly they vanished.

  I blinked and pushed the palms of my hands into my eye sockets.

  I rounded a corner into a secluded corridor surrounded by gaudy sculptures of anatomically correct hearts, each one appeared to be a vase hosting a bouquet of white roses. They extended right up to the door at the end of the hallway. Finally, I had found the loo.

  I walked forward with purpose when I heard someone clear their throat behind me.

  It was so familiar that my heart stopped, my mind took a few seconds to process what I heard and my brow furrowed in confusion.

  “Oh, Sophia.” Melanie blinked into existence in front of me. “How soon you forget.”

  I shook my head and looked down to my hands, they were shaking.

  “How are you…?” I croaked.

  Instantly, as if a wave washed away her appearance. Her short brown bob receded and her jaw straightened. Before my eyes, Melanie became someone else.

  “My name is Damian.” He took my hand and turned it over to see the Sigil on my wrist. Damian licked his lips. I couldn’t move. Every inch of my skin felt like thousands of pinpricks were closing in, the pressure was insurmountable. This was what true fear and power felt like.

  I stumbled out of the hallway, my feet unsure like a baby fawn. I returned to the bar to see Henry and William in a hushed argument. William gestured wildly while my Daemon shook his head. The music thumped but all I could hear was the rush of blood in my ears. Henry straightened when he saw me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look into his eyes. I felt like I had been hollowed out.

  “What is Damian?” I whispered.

  Henry and William froze. Both daemons were afraid, and that spoke volumes to me.

  “He is a Pureblood, Sophia.” William gave Henry a meaningful look that I didn’t understand. I forced my chin up to meet their gazes.

  “I want to go home.” I breathed. And then I fainted.

  A sharp sound woke me from a swirling dream of nothingness. I jolted out of bed and realized I had fallen asleep in my living room, alone. There was someone at my door. I checked my phone, it was five in the morning.

  “Coming?” I said to the empty air as I pushed myself off the futon and pulled the covers around me. I cradled them for security and stood up.

  “Henry?” I called quietly, anyone else at that time of night was highly unlikely. “I said that you could just come in—you don’t need to be invited, right?”

  I walked over to the door, my head swimming from the rush of standing up too fast. I looked out of the peephole but in my daze, all I saw was pale alabaster. I unlocked the deadlock and pulled it open, still half asleep, I pulled the quilt around me more securely.

  “Henry? It’s five in the morning.”

  There was no response. I saw a fist, white and luminescent in the moonlight clench and shake.

  Rage.

  I quickly looked up to find William Kain stood in my doorway. The wide smile plastered on his face was sickeningly false and insincere.

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” William said, his head cocked to one side like an animal surveying its prey.

  “I’d like what?” I said in response, I didn’t move as Henry’s message replayed in my head. Don’t be alone with daemons. “What are you doing here? It’s five in the morning?” I narrowed my eyes at William. His tattooed arm flew across his chest and restrained his fist as if he had just prevented himself from punching me in the jaw. William pushed past without a word and the door slammed shut though I saw no movement towards it.

  “I said ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’” William mimicked back to me. His rage came off him in waves. Caged behind his seemingly calm exterior. He looked around my empty living room. I backed up to the wall, clutching at my sheets, and tried to slow my heart rate.

  “Does Henry know you’re here?” I asked, trying to keep my voice level.

  William held his hand out in front of him and flipped it over to survey his palm, his entire façade was nonchalant, his eyes hardened in anger.

  “Of course Sophia, he is my friend.”

  I licked my lip; my breathing came in short sharp gasps. My chest movements were tight and shallow. “Right,” I said, it came out as a croak. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Right, well. William, would you like something to drink?”

  William’s brow furrowed while the rest of him was as still as marble.

  “Sorry,” I murmured. “You don’t drink…you don’t eat or sleep…or anything else…I was just being polite…I…Just…” I rambled off. William held up the hand that he was surveying a second earlier, to stop me. I jolted and my mouth snapped shut. I forgot that I was a nervous talker, especially in stressful situations.

  “You know what kills me…?” William groaned; he pulled his arms to his head and bent his knees in exasperation; he released his form and took a step back and swayed. “You are such…a…ugh!”

  I shook my head and closed my mouth again without saying a word.

  “I did not come for a house visit to play your game. I did not come for mindless chatter and I did not come for cross-species love games,” he assured me in a hard tone.

  I scrunched my nose in disgust.

  “Though if you set on fucking a daemon I could oblige.” he stated harshly, hissing the words.

  “What? What the hell are you—?!” I took a step forward, my anger flaring. I exhaled one sharp burst of air and filled my lungs ready for an onslaught against him.

  “I came to tell you to stop playing your game. You will draw the wrath of the Purebloods onto Henry and you don’t realise what you’re doing. You’re playing in circles you neither understand nor should have even heard of!” William snarled.

  “What am I doing? I…I’m not…” I stuttered shaking my head.

  “You shouldn’t play with daemons.” William separated and hissed every word at me. I flinched at each one.

  “Henry is my friend. He is my…” I couldn’t say, lover, I couldn’t say the subject of my affection. “We aren’t doing anything wrong. We aren’t playing.” My back was rigid and I cursed the fact my anger might possibly get me killed.

  “You don’t realise you’re doing it?” William blurred in front of my face. His ice-cold hand stroked a strand of hair behind my ear and my eyes darted to his. “You don’t realise you’re doing it,” He deadpanned in a more certain voice this time.

  “Doing what?”

  He snorted bitterly. “You are his addiction,” William clarified. “You are his drug, you will
be his downfall, you will kill him…and you don’t even realise, you don’t even know you’re doing it…”

  “It’s his choice,” I said and my voice broke. “It’s Henry’s decision.”

  “Oh no, it most certainly is not.” William scoffed. Then he was in my face again, so fast the movement was almost smoke.

  “He has the potential to be so much more. But you…” William waved his hand in my direction in disdain. “You listen to his ramblings…he’s self-fuelled crap and you add more wood to the fire.”

  I swallowed and couldn’t stop myself from blinking when tears threatened me.

  “He is a daemon. I am a daemon—we kill because that is who we are, death is not racist, sexist or ageist. But, Oh, no! Henry is different,” William mocked. “Henry has to believe that he is a monster for killing humans.”

  “Killing innocent people does make you a monster,” I whispered.

  “Humans are mammals,” William said with a flourish of his wrist as if we were discussing the weather. “But you…” the daemon pointed at my chest, one inch from my skin.

  “Why are you here?” I pleaded.

  “Henry asked me to kill him once,” William interrupted me. “You only know someone truly, when they are at their most defining moment. That is when you learn someone’s true personality, for us, it is usually at times of starvation. Before we lock down,” William turned to look at me. “For you, it is normally right before you die.”

  “You can’t kill me,” I said.

  William blinked, “I can kill you.”

  “But you won’t,” I assured him. “You see Henry and you’re scared. You see him and you refuse to admit that you have the same worries he does. You worry that you have no soul—that you will die and become nothing but dust, or you will go straight to hell.”

  “Hell is for humans,” William hissed.

  “With friends like you, who needs enemies?” I snarled.

  “He saved my life,” William said in a whisper, “And now I’m saving his…” William lifted his chin and looked me directly in the eye. “Leave him. Leave him now before you do more damage.”

  “I can’t,” I breathed, pain ripped through my chest. William sighed heavily. He looked down to his hands as if they were a weapon but they were steady now.

  I clutched the duvet closer. “Does Henry believe that he won’t go to heaven? Or hell?”

  William shrugged. “I don’t think he cares,” he said in a low voice. “Not anymore. If you’re with him.”

  “You can’t say that by taking me out of his life that you are saving it.”

  “You love him,” William exhaled sharply and closed his eyes. “You are a fool. You are a fragile little fool.”

  “Get out of my house,” I said in an even voice. William didn’t move. I thrust a pointed finger in the direction of the door; the bedding fell to my feet.

  “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

  William strolled to the door. He turned back to me as he opened it ready to leave. My chest heaved and my finger still out, I brandished it again. He sighed.

  “You have seen the monsters that the Purebloods are, and yet you still will not retreat. You are a fool, Ms. Taylor. A fool in love.” William snarled, and then the daemon was gone.

  My door swung open in the wind and I slumped to the floor with my hand on my chest. I waited for my courage to come back, for the feeling to come back to my arms and for my heart to start beating again.

  Sitting at a small wooden table in Bar Noir, I listened to the sound of the cleaners buffing the floor. Chris sat opposite me, my head was on the table, facing down, I groaned loudly.

  “You seem tired,” Chris noted. “And hungover.”

  “I am tired.”

  Chris poked my shoulder and I sat up, rubbing the spot. It didn’t hurt but annoyed me.

  “The bags under your eyes are so big they look like bruises,” Chris said, scrutinizing my face. I scowled into the glass window by our table, my reflection stared back at me. My eyes looked like they would roll back into my head and I would flat-line at any minute.

  “Well…” I folded my arms across my chest. “I have a lot on my mind.”

  “Are you walking home?” Chris wondered.

  I reached into my pocket and checked my text messages, none. “I think so.”

  Work was quiet that night. Or at least that was how it seemed. I had a dark foreboding feeling all evening, like something big was going to happen. It filled me with dread and unease. I swallowed back bile.

  “I brought my car tonight, I don’t normally drive…but since you’ve been walking home in the dark for the past month I thought I’d offer you a lift?” Chris said.

  I crooked an eyebrow. “Just don’t try and seduce me into the backseat,”

  “Would I ever?”

  I snorted. “Probably not, you love your testicles too much.”

  “Again—enough about my man balls,” Chris pouted. “Want a lift or not?”

  I leaned back and appraised the cleaners who were packing up. “I just have to lock up and I’m ready to go.”

  Chris nodded and we watched as the two cleaners slid the vacuum cleaner into the cupboard in the corner on the other side of the bar. The music stopped and the atmosphere after closing was dense with the lingering smell of sweat, the essence of people pressed together in a nightclub

  In my distracted thoughts, Henry’s face was forefront. I zoned out and imagined the mundane or not so mundane activities that he might be pursuing when he was away from me.

  My lips turned up into a small smile when I pictured his long eyelashes and his wide doe-like aquamarine eyes. The shine of his dark rich chocolate hair and his cold skin. His rosy lips and his smile. I envied him—he was a better person than me.

  “Go get your coat,” Chris suggested. I nodded blankly, brought back to reality.

  I walked out back and came back a minute later to find Chris stood next to the doorway, jangling his keys. I didn’t have a car—there was no point in London with the odd roads, the congestion charge, and stupid pedestrians. I had passed my test in Wembley but never felt the need to use my driver’s license.

  Outside the rain poured down, I ran my fingers through my hair and pushed it off my face.

  “Do you have an umbrella?” I groaned.

  Chris laughed, walking in front of me. “The car’s just here, Fia.”

  And there sat a tiny Corsa, metallic electric blue.

  “Your car is so effeminate, Chris!”

  He rolled his eyes and pushed the keypad, the lights flashed once. “Don’t mock me, she’s my baby.”

  I opened the door and slid in, soaking the seats. I sat in silence and looked out of the window as Chris absentmindedly started the car.

  Ten minutes of driving and a rather annoying CD that played nothing but The Mamas and Papas, we rounded the corner to my home and the engine slowed to a quiet purr. I squinted into the darkness.

  “Uh, Chris could you drop me off at my friend’s house, I think I want to stay there tonight,” I said in a small voice when I caught how empty my house looked.

  Chris’s expression was confused. “I thought your mother left? France, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said, rolling my eyes. “But, my friend only lives around the corner.”

  Chris looked over his shoulder to reverse and he gripped the steering wheel, turning it around.

  “You always used to say that when we were teenagers,” Chris quoted from teenage years. “You never paid me and it was never just around the corner.”

  “Notting Hill isn’t that far from Fulham,” I bit back.

  Chris rolled his eyes and we sped down the street. The rain caused distorted lines down the side of the windows and the wipers moved frantically in front of us both. The cars moved slowly and the traffic lights seemed to conspire against us. Chris moaned and his fingers tapped against the steering wheel.

  “You’ve always been impatient, haven’t you?” I smirked.

&n
bsp; Chris looked at me out of the corner of his eyes. “I haven’t,” he said defiantly.

  “Right. I said in my most condescending tone. “Why are you in such a rush stud? Trying to get home to your missus?”

  A red tinge went from Chris Archer’s cheeks to his hairline.

  “Who is it?” I said, my eyes lighting up.

  He shifted in his seat as he looked in his rear-view mirror and pulled out into the traffic.

  “No one.”

  My eyes widened. “Oh, my God. That’s where you’ve been the past few weeks,” I blurted out. “You’ve been seeing someone.” I gave Chris a knowing look. He was still bright red.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

  “You’ve been dealing with your own shit…” he said slowly.

  “I always have time for your shit Chris…”

  We rounded a dark corner in silence and suddenly I saw the light bounce off something in the middle of the road, illuminating it in a yellow glow.

  “Holy FUCK!” Chris shouted, slamming his foot on the break.

  A dark hooded figure stood in the middle of the road.

  Thump.

  I heard the protest of metal and a high-pitched keen. The car kept moving, albeit on a slight tangent.

  “What the hell was that? Did we hit someone?” I hissed, my fingers gripped the dashboard. The car spun around and pulled to an abrupt stop, both Chris and I were panting.

  Leaving the engine running, Chris ripped his door open and stomped around the fender at the front of the car. I sat, watching him through the windscreen, his hands flew to his mouth and he seemed exasperated and annoyed by what he was finding. I stepped out slowly.

  I rounded the car until I was parallel with Chris, starring down at the front of the car. Looking down, I saw a significant dent directly in the middle. A person shaped dent. Both Chris and I scanned the area.

  “Did we hit someone?” Chris asked.

  I shook my head, then stopped and bit my lip. “I don’t know Archer…it might have been a dog,” I lied. I remembered the figure in the dark hood and it seemed that Chris didn’t. It was a blur, a quick flash and he was gone. The heavy feeling in my chest was still prominent and I fought to control my breathing.