“We should get going. Get to the shopping center before dusk.”
“I can smell blood.”
Nicholas leaned toward me, and I instinctively backed up, stepping into the door behind me. I could never quite figure out how Nicholas managed to affect my grace when he was so close to me.
“Did you kill him?” His voice was harsh. Was he condemning me?
“No.”
“Ahh. Then I see.” He nodded. “You do realize that it might not work, and if it does, you’ve created yet another fanged mouth to feed. Why ever would you choose now to break your code of ethics?”
“I had to try.” I felt like a school girl caught stealing sweets.
“How many of mine have you killed through the years?”
I didn’t like where this was going. In all the zombie killing and swirls of human emotion, I hadn’t even considered the possibility Nicholas would seek retribution for my haircutting habits.
“More than I can remember.” I looked him straight in the eyes.
“I know the number. I have a lock of hair for everyone.”
“Then why ask the question?”
“You never killed any of Philippe’s, did you?”
“He only made Tate and Lyle. Both value human life, and both are good men.”
“Yes, I do not wish to argue that point. Tate and Lyle are great vampires, but they were average men.”
“What are you suggesting?” I put my hands on my hips.
“That Philippe made them because he knew he could better them.”
“And you thought all those creatures you set on the streets of London were better? I dread to think of the men they were before.” I waved my hands about, my voice higher than I’d intended.
“No. I did not make them to be vampires.”
He quickly grabbed my hand. The instant our skin touched, something primal passed between us.
“I made them for you.”
I snatched my hand back and shook my head.
“What the hell are you saying?”
“I made them to keep you…occupied. You needed an outlet for your continued anger. I did it all for you. Can’t you see, Brianna? Everything I do, everything I have done and will do, it’s always for you.”
I thought he was going to break into a Bryan Adams song! I side-stepped him and started to walk toward the crowds of people.
“Brianna, please,” he whispered. He tried to grab my hand again, but this time, I was too quick.
My mind was on overload. All these years I’d been seeking vengeance, but all the while I’d just been playing his game, doing exactly what he wanted me to do. I’d now even created another pawn in his game. If Danny came through, he’d be just one more thing that Nicholas could manipulate, use against me.
“Tracy,” I called out.
She jogged across the factory toward me. “Where’s Danny?”
I put my hands on her shoulders. “Danny is in the office back there. He’s…sleeping.”
She sighed. “Will he wake up?”
“I’m not sure. If he does, he’ll be…”
“Like you?”
“One might hope.”
“What do I do?”
“He won’t wake up for at least four hours. We’ll be back from our shopping spree by then. You just need to keep everyone out of there.”
“Okay.” She lurched forward and hugged me. She smelled of BO, hairspray, and fear.
I’d touched more people in the last forty-eight hours than in the last four centuries. I was afraid I’d get used to it. So I patted her back and pulled her off me.
“Are you ready?” Nicholas had changed into a black, sateen-looking track suit. He looked like a mob hit-man in a low budget foreign film.
“Nice outfit. Going for a run after?” I asked.
“Thought I’d be more prepared this time. You know, just in case you decide to throw me to the zombies.”
“Preparation is the key to success, or so I hear.” I smiled sweetly.
“Indeed.” He bowed and opened the factory’s steel doors just wide enough for me to slip through.
“Hey,” Josh shouted. He ran up to me—he smelled like a heady mix of gun oil and sweat.
I turned and almost fell into him. I blushed.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
I pushed a blue tendril behind my ear. It wouldn’t be long till my blonde roots started to show again. I made a mental note to try to find suitable hair dye.
“Umm, we made a list of things we need.” He pushed the paper into my hand.
“Oh, okay.” The disappointment dripped off me, and I heard Nicholas snigger. I thought he was going to tell me to be careful or something equally romantic.
“Thanks,” he said, and patted my shoulder.
It’s all right, I thought. He doesn’t have the memories I do. I need to cut him some slack. He might have been my true love’s reincarnation, but he didn’t know that, and if I told him, well, with my luck, the next words out of his mouth would have been a cruel echo of Mr. Armani’s, “I don’t do mentals.”
I slipped under the doors, and Nicholas followed.
“Don’t even say it.” I snarled at him.
He held his hands up then bit his bottom lip.
I shook my head and started to run. It took us five minutes to get back to the shopping center. I took out the list and read down it. It was pretty simple and, quite frankly, obvious: food, water, clothes, bags, toiletries. I then turned it over and saw the extra note Josh had written, “Bring back one sexy blue-haired beauty, and a sarcastic, black-clad ass-hat—be careful, Brit—come back to me.”
Holy crap! He’d actually said “come back to me,” not to them.
“Let’s get this looting on the road!” I yelled at Nicholas.
I had to get back, not just for Danny, but also now to see Josh—I also had to pick out a new outfit so I’d look good. Maybe something dressy?
“Suddenly, your face looks less like thunder,” Nicholas said as he stared at me.
“Do you want to get pushed into a zombie mosh pit again?”
“It’s not top of my agenda,” he mumbled.
“Let’s go shopping, ass-hat.” I ran toward the shopping center’s back door, as it appeared less zombie-fied. I merrily cut down each slow-moving corpse, Nicholas taking out stragglers behind me. We got to the door, I kicked it in, and we threw ourselves inside, right into another, much more alert, zombie horde.
Chapter Thirteen
“Oh dear,” Nicholas whispered behind me.
“You take the fifty on the left, I’ll take the fifty on the right,” I said.
He leapt to his left, and I kicked out to my right. Undead hands reached out to me, fingernails broken and razor sharp. I felt the blood that trickled from the wounds they made on my bare arms. Too many were in front of me, so I dropped to the floor and swept my leg out. The nearest one toppled over, and the ones behind fell over him. I sprang up and began slicing limbs like I was cutting through a dense jungle.
When I thought I was done, I spared a glance at Nicholas who was just finishing his last kill. I wasn’t done, though. A zombie at my feet pulled at me. I lost my balance and fell into the mess of decaying body parts, my scythes falling out of my hands. I squealed as the zombie bit into my forearm. In the next second, its head was flying through the air, and Nicholas was standing over me, wielding my scythes. He collected both weapons into one hand then offered me the other. I remembered the first time he’d offered me his hand, and all the times after that in the twenty years he had held me captive.
I pushed him away and flipped myself upright.
He looked offended, but quickly shook it off.
“Hurts, don’t it?” He motioned to the bite.
I looked down at. It had already started to heal. “I’ve endured worse,” I spat.
We walked into the shopping center and found that the lion’s share of the inside zombies had been the ones to mob us at the door. The rest were s
till outside, trying to figure out how to get in. We first went to a luggage store and picked up six massive wheelie cases. We each took two of them and went shopping, Nicholas for the men and me for the women and children. I picked up some sensible clothes, underwear, running shoes, and hair bands. I threw in some deodorants and toothbrushes and paste. I even put in some cosmetics. I found my hair dye and picked out a nice, white, summer-lace dress along with some skinny jeans and various funny slogan T-shirts. I picked up some books and a few toys for the kids. We met back up at the food court where we sifted through canned goods and water bottles. We filled the remaining two cases with foodstuffs and drinks.
“Are we done?” Nicholas asked in that tone of voice men tended to adopt on overly long shopping trips.
“Just a minute,” I said.
I left him with the bags and ran back through the shopping center toward a jewelry store. I picked up a silver cross necklace and slipped it into in my pocket.
“Now are we done?
“Yes, Nicholas. We can go now.”
We went back through the doors we came in. Unfortunately, the zombies from the front of the building had now made their way to the back car park and were huddled together awaiting their dinner of blue-haired vampire with a side of ass-hat. As we noticed this, the door behind us clicked shut. We could have made a run for it, but we would have to abandon all six suitcases of loot, so we’d have had a completely wasted journey, and I didn’t fancy having to go back and tell everyone that they were going to bed stinky and hungry.
“There!” I pointed to the ten-foot tall ornate lampposts that lined the car park. We both threw our bags ahead of us, then each headed for a lamppost and scampered up like monkeys. Once out of the throng, we surveyed the car park. The zombies couldn’t reach us, although I have to give it to them—they tried. It was like they were all stuck in some undead Pilates class.
“Well, this is a fine mess you’ve gotten me into.” Nicholas looked over at me from his lamppost.
“This isn’t a mess,” I replied, trying not to look at him.
“Yes, of course. The zombies will get bored eventually. Tell me, what do you plan for us to do to pass the…years?”
“Will you just shut up?”
“Why? For once, you’re a captive audience. I can say what I like, and you can neither walk away nor cause me grievous bodily harm.”
“Great. I think I might just throw myself into the zombies now.” I rolled my eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” he muttered.
“Stop muttering! If you’re going to say something, commit to it, and say it loud.”
“We’re vampires. I don’t need to say anything loud—well, apart from one thing evidently.”
“And pray tell, what is that one thing?”
“The one thing that you so far refuse to hear.”
“This is a nightmare. You know I can deal with zombies, even vambies—”
“Zompires.”
“Vambies!”
“Whatever. You know, we could have really done with that other grenade about now.”
“Don’t start! Christ, having to consistently listen to your whining! It’s driving me mad!” I threw up my hands, momentarily lost my balance, and had to scramble back up the post.
“Then I won’t say another word. Would that make you happy, Brianna?”
“Britannia!”
“Will that make you happy, Britannia?”
“Deliriously so.”
“Then I’ll not speak.”
I breathed out. Finally, a bit of peace and quiet. Even the zombies’ grabby, needful moans below were preferable to Nicholas’ incessant crap.
Twenty blissfully quiet seconds ticked by. Then I realized that if something were to happen to me here, and Danny did rise, he’d be all alone. I hadn’t even considered the possibility of leaving a newbie alone with a group of worried humans. Shit. I started to form a plan. I began counting the zombies. I’d gotten to 127 when Nicholas broke his word.
“So, what is the plan? We can’t live in the lampposts like urban monkeys.”
I looked round at him. “One of us jumps over them and draws them off. The other grabs the suitcases and makes a run for it.”
“One can only guess as to which job you would like me to accomplish.”
“You’re such a tosser,” I muttered.
“Speak up, dear.”
He’d heard me. “Let’s rock, paper, scissors, okay?”
“No need. After all, you have a family to think of now.” With that, he jumped off the lamppost and flung himself over the horde. All at once, they turned to him and started shuffling his way. I jumped down and grabbed all six bags. I knocked over a couple of slow movers then headed back to the factory. Nicholas was fast and angry—he’d make short work of the horde once he got some room to move.
I knocked on the steel shutters and was met by Henri. He looked concerned.
“What’s happened?” I asked.
I was then hit with the overwhelming scent of fresh blood.
“Tabitha is dead.”
I thought back. Yes, I had rescued her from the office block.
Tyler, who’d been her survivor mate, stormed up to me. “Danny killed her!”
“What?”
Danny was locked in the office and still had over an hour before he could do anything at all, let alone successfully kill someone.
“He’s the only one of us missing, and we can all guess what you’ve done to him.” Green had joined in with throwing the accusations around.
I looked around. “Where’s Josh?”
“He’s moving the body,” Henri replied.
I looked around at the grief-stricken faces. Odd, they hadn’t known her before the whole zombie thing, but losing her now was like the straw that had broken the post-apocalyptic camel’s back.
I dumped the cases and pushed past the people, following the scent of blood. I found Josh hovering over the fresh body. It was now covered with two industrial sacks.
He looked up at me. “Did he do it?”
“No.” I was certain. I pulled back the sack and was suddenly staring at the blank, black kohl-lined, dead eyes of Tabitha.
“Will she rise? Become a zombie?” Josh had an analytical mind.
“That I don’t know.”
I looked at the body. There were gashes across her neck, not bite marks.
“Someone else did this. If it were a…well, if it was Danny, he’d have bitten her, not slashed her throat and wrists.”
Just to make sure, I ran to the office and found Danny still lying on the couch, just where I’d left him, symbol still on his forehead—sound asleep or dead, depending on whether the magic was taking hold.
Nicholas emerged at the doorway. “What’s going on?”
“Someone killed Tabitha,” I replied, anger starting to rise in my gullet like indigestion.
“Is Danny…?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Well.” Nicholas was staring at the body. “Who has a knife?”
John. “It’s John. Son of a—”
Before anyone could stop me, I was flying at John. I pushed him to the floor and heard his shoulder crack under the pressure.
“Help!” he screamed, but everyone just looked on, or at one another.
“Why?” I growled at him.
He squirmed, and I saw it in his eyes. He was just sick, paranoid about his only remaining work colleague, and he probably thought if he blamed Danny then he’d get rid of both of them in one go.
Nicholas spoke softly behind me. “Think, Britannia.”
I yanked John up. He screamed in pain as I flung him over my shoulder. Josh moved forward and patted him down. He found the knife lodged in John’s handmade Italian shoes. It was still stained with blood. Everyone gasped—the last thing they all needed was to even consider that one of them could kill another. They needed order to the supernatural chaos now around them, they needed to believe that zombies kille
d, and humans worked together. They also needed to believe that, whatever they thought we were, we were there to protect them from every danger.
“Please.” Nicholas put his hands up and quieted them down. “There are six suitcases of supplies over there.” He motioned to where Tracy was standing. “Please help to distribute them. We will remove this…murderer before he can harm another. We must all work together in the dark times ahead. Attacking one another will be considered a violation of our humanity and will not now, or ever, be tolerated.”
I must admit his speech was a good one. He all but got a round of applause from our wards.
I marched toward the office, the only part of the building that was not visible from the factory floor. John wriggled when I set him on the floor, so I head-butted him. He groaned and fell into unconsciousness. Nicholas followed me and closed the door behind us.
“Waste not, want not,” he said. He leaned over the unconscious murderer and sank his teeth gently into his jugular. I left him to it and walked across to Danny on the couch. He had no heartbeat, which was neither a good nor bad sign. I pulled him into my arms and cradled him a moment. If he were to wake, it would be soon.
“Why him? Why did you give in now?” Nicholas had finished his feeding, and John’s heartbeat was still strong, although he wouldn’t be waking for a while.
I thought about the question, but every answer I came up with was weak. It was a good question—centuries of stubbornness and I meet a sick kid and simply give it up.
“It wasn’t giving in so much as giving up,” I replied, echoing an answer I’d given Nicholas before.
“Giving up what?” Nicholas perched on the desk in front of us.
I really didn’t feel like having a heart-to-heart with a vampire who’d been my sworn enemy for as long as I could remember, but answering seemed preferable to yet another argument.
“Loneliness.”
“You could have always come to me, Britannia. You were the one that made me the antagonist in your story. I was always there for you.”
“Not now, Nicholas.”
“Think about it. You killed hundreds of vampires, yet you never killed me. You could have a thousand times over, but you never pointed your sharp scythes at me.” He got up and walked toward the door. “No matter what happens with Danny, you tried—it is all one can ask. There’s enough John left for both of you when he wakes.” He then walked out, closing the door behind him.
Bad Blood (Battle of the Undead Book 1) Page 10
