by L. T. Kelly
“That may be so, Pearl, but we’ll need to take a vote. We can’t go about this willy nilly, you know,” he told her gruffly, then looked around the table. “Raise your hand for a vote of yes.”
He drew in a sharp breath when only his and Virginia’s hands remained firmly on the table. I wanted to leap up in a display of victory, but I managed to keep my expression even. This wasn’t a win/lose situation. This was a need-to-know basis.
Harold glared at me until I tipped my head, staring back at him. “Well? The votes have been counted. Give me the information.”
“They’re feral vampires cast out to the caves of Ancrum.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking a sip from his own glass, as though he elected to tell me all along. “It has been a practice for centuries,” he said in a voice you would use to tell a toddler something.
I glanced at Pearl. She winked at me slyly. We had what we came for, and I had enough of this shitshow. I rose from my seat, grabbed my coat and flashed to the top of the stairs, lifting the hatch before any of them had a chance to insult me or my intelligence any further.
I stood beside Pearl’s car and waited. Five minutes passed before she returned.
“What happened?” I asked as we drove away.
“They were annoyed.”
I shrugged. “Annoyed? Bartholomew will be fucking livid when he discovers they didn’t do anything to try to help him.”
“What if they’re right, though? What if he doesn’t need help?”
She’d changed her tune from her earlier statement that he loved me. If he loved me, why hadn’t he been in touch?
“I know him, Pearl. If he could have, he’d have made contact by now. There’s something off about this, I can feel it in my bones.”
“I understand. They have forbidden me to accompany you.”
I drew in a breath, about to protest, but she interjected before I had chance.
“But I trust your judgment and share your view. Something isn’t right. Will the wolves be ready tomorrow?”
I peered up at the full moon. They’d be out there now, turned and running through a moonlit woodland, wild and free.
“Yes. I think so.”
*****
Gabriella merely grunted as Pearl, Geo and I pulled up outside her house. She chucked her bag onto the seat and followed behind it.
“Oh… Hi, Teagan. Thanks so much for helping us,” I mimicked her sarcastically, glaring at her in the rear-view mirror.
She stared forward at the headrest in front of her, totally ignoring me. Pearl grinned beside her, not appearing phased by Gabriella’s grumpy expression.
“Didn’t Rose want to come?” I asked Geo, both because I wanted to know and to break the stony silence in the vehicle.
“I haven’t seen her,” he explained, glaring at the road ahead.
“Hasn’t she been home?”
“I wasn’t home last night, as you are aware, and she was not there when I left tonight.”
“Isn’t that strange?”
“No. She often stays with Alex when I’m–” He stopped abruptly, then waved his hand, as though the gesture would indicate what the missing word was meant to be.
“Being a bit of a twat?” I finished for him. “Have you told her where you’re going?”
He dipped his head and shot me a warning look, which I took as my signal to shut the fuck up.
The full journey would take around eight hours, so we planned to stop halfway. Pearl knew a place we could stay with no sunlight, a place owned by vampires, so Geo and Gabriella would have to go elsewhere. I couldn’t help but be glad as we neared our destination. Gabriella had not indulged in polite chatter, nor had Geo. The pair of them were edgy, and I couldn’t figure out if it was because of what we might find once we arrived, or if Geo had coerced Gabriella into taking the trip with us.
“Well, that was awkward,” I said to Pearl, perching on one of the two double beds in our room in the basement of a plush hotel.
“Indeed.”
I pulled my cell phone out and performed the fruitless nightly ritual of calling Bartholomew and leaving a message. I hung up, sighing heavily and throwing the phone down beside me on the bed.
“Can I ask you something?” Pearl said so quietly I almost missed it.
“Of course.” I frowned, turning to see her sombre expression.
“Why do you want to marry Bartholomew?”
“Because I love him,” I answered candidly, though it wasn’t the entire truth of the matter.
“And because you think being married will stop him from leaving you?”
I shook my head, denying the truth laced in her statement. “Even I’m not dumb enough to believe that. If his head is turned enough, I know he’ll leave me. But…” I hesitated and squeezed my eyes closed, the vision of Bartholomew staring adoringly at another woman, her eyes gently closed as his perfect, naked form thrust inside her, clawed at my brain. The image was so vivid, the heady aroma of lovemaking lingered in my nostrils.
“It would make it a fuck sight harder for him,” I finally managed to complete my sentence and offered her a smile.
Even she couldn’t resist a giggle.
Six
Itchycoo Park
As the sun finally dipped, Pearl and I awoke and dressed. I glanced at my phone before checking out of the hotel, seeing a message from Geo.
Hi. There’s been a change of plans. Gabriella wanted to go to the university and speak to Grace’s roommates, find out when they last saw her. I’ve hired a car for you both. It will be there once you wake up. Sorry. G.
“Shit,” I hissed, stopping dead in the hotel lobby. “They’ve buggered off without us.” Pearl’s eyes grew wide. “They hired us a car to complete the journey. Will you drive?”
I never learned how to drive. In Montana, I ran to where I needed to go. There had been vast, open spaces unoccupied by humans, especially at night. The same in London, with everything being on the doorstep.
“Yes.” She paused. “But I’m not the best at driving when I have no idea where I’m going. I’m more of a city driver.”
“Not the best is better than not at all.”
Pearl’s self-assessment of her driving skills were correct. Geo hired a Mini Cooper. I figured the clutch and brakes would be in tatters, along with my nerves. I tried to help Pearl navigate and offer words of encouragement that her driving was not that bad, but my white knuckles clutching the edge of my seat in a death grip gave me away.
“Lets never do that again,” I laughed as we arrived outside a quaint little B&B.
The owner used to be an Assembly member Pearl took over from. Claire threw her arms around Pearl, having opened the door to greet us. I left them to catch up, gratefully accepting the offered glass of blood and heading to the bedroom.
Heavy, wooden shutters pressed against the windows. Claire’s taste lay in the category of the whimsical country cottage theme. The bedspread, curtains and wallpaper were patterned with tiny pink roses in bud. To be frank, it gave me a headache. I flopped onto the bed and closed my eyes.
I had not heard from Geo, and to be honest, I didn’t really want to. I was livid that he stranded us. I guessed Gabriella talked him into it. She’d been so cold, and all I’d done was to try to help her and her child. Well, screw them.
*****
“Hello, darling. Sleep okay?” Pearl asked politely as I stepped into the parlour the following evening.
Claire greeted me, too, as I took a seat at the table. She appeared to have been in her late fifties when she turned. Her greying locks were tied back into a tight bun, and she wore a knee-length, floral summer dress, clearly not planning to go out. Scotland was freezing at the moment, and wandering around dressed for the height of summer would undoubtedly raise suspicions.
“Hey, do either of you know anything about the Malapropos?” I asked before realising I had failed to offer either of them so much as a polite hello.
Claire piped up. “Not really. I told Pe
arl last night Harold was quite rude toward your lack of knowledge on the subject. Your betrothed forced our hands when it came to these…” She lifted her fingers and formed air quotes, “‘feral vampires’, because none of us, except for Bartholomew and Bruno, ever met them or even received an adequate explanation of why they were banished to the caves of Ancrum. His excuse being that it was an age-old tradition he was required to uphold.”
“And you’ve never been curious enough to go and take a peek?” I silently prayed for a positive response, but she shook her head and poured blood into blue-and-white china cups from a teapot, as though we were participating in a women’s institute meeting.
“We’re on our own now. Who do we go to first?” I directed my question at Pearl. If forced to admit it, I would describe myself as pissed for leaving home and coming all this way to be ditched by the wolves without the first idea about what we were doing. I hoped Pearl had her shit together even if I didn’t.
“Who do you think has him?” Claire asked, shaking her head with a faraway look in her eyes. “I can’t imagine witches or feral vampires, no matter what their particular strengths are, being able to overpower someone as capable as Bartholomew.” I could tell she thought out loud, but it didn’t help one iota.
“Yes, I see your point,” Pearl said. “But honestly, I agree with Teagan. Something is not quite sitting right, and we can’t simply let something terrible happen to either Bartholomew or Bruno.”
“Hmmm…,” Claire mused, absentmindedly rubbing her index finger over her lips. “My first suggestion would be to pay a visit to the witches, but please, act with caution. Witches can’t abide our kind. You’re more than welcome to stay for as long as you like.” Her final sentence exuded cheer. It must have been lonely for her up here. I didn’t imagine that many people passed by.
“Why don’t they like vampires?” I asked, never having met a witch…to my knowledge. I mean, I had met plenty of crazies claiming to be, but I think incense dimmed their logic. From what I learned in recent days, witches weren’t city dwellers.
“Think about it.” Claire shrugged. “Werewolves and witches are born. We are made. To them, we are unnatural, not meant to be on this earth feeding from humans.”
“But witches made us,” I informed Claire, unsure if she was aware of the story surrounding the creation of our species.
“Indeed, but with most religions…say Christianity…they don’t like to admit they stole the vast majority of their traditions and beliefs from paganism.” She jutted her head toward me and considered me through a hooded gaze.
“I see. Right…” I slapped my hands on the table and looked at Pearl, who’d been watching Claire and I debate matters, amusement plastered over her face. “Let’s get going.”
“Where, though, darling?” Pearl asked, still smiling, her shoulders pulled into a shrug.
“Oh, fuck.” I realised I had no idea where the goddamn witches lived. We both turned to Claire, who smiled.
“Come on. I’ll draw you a map. You’re going to need it.”
*****
“Who the hell let me wear heeled boots?” I groaned as I yanked my heel from the muddy ground of the moorlands we trudged across, knowing full well Pearl suffered a much worse predicament with her choice of footwear. She chose canvas flats to go with her cigarette pants. At least my boots could be saved. Her shoes were trashed, her feet dripping brown sludge and squelching with each footfall.
“Claire wasn’t wrong when she explained how difficult they are to find. I’m not sure we’re going to be welcomed once we arrive, either,” Pearl said as she fought against the mud attempting to deprive her of a shoe.
“Ssshh.” I stilled hearing the sounds of a child’s laughter in the distance.
Pearl and I hunched down, honing our hearing on the bank of trees to our left, the waning moon casting greying light on the top. I stretched my senses farther, hearing adults, a mixture of males and females, accompanied by the crackle of a fire.
“There.” I pointed to the trees. “Claire said they’re surrounded by woodland, bewitched to make humans want to avoid entering.”
Pearl nodded. “We may have to battle our own senses to breach them, too. This clan in particular has been most troublesome by all accounts.”
We whooshed to the tree line, the snapping of branches and heavy breathing sounding a metre in front of us. I held my breath. Not so much to disguise my presence as to avoid breathing in the stench of rotting meat.
“Can you smell that?” I asked Pearl in the lowest possible voice, pinching my nose.
Pearl shook her head. “It’s the bewitchment. Can you hear a high-pitched squeal, like a baby screaming?”
I shook my head. “Clever bastards. It’s individualised to each person. The thing that puts them off most is experienced here. Mine is bad odours, and yours is obviously noise.”
The crunch of twigs moved away. For a moment, I thought whoever had been there heard us, until a young boy cried out, “Ready or not, here I come!”
“Shouldn’t they be in bed, not playing games?” I said out loud, unsure of why the thought even crossed my mind.
We stepped beyond the tree line. I considered snatching one of the kids and making threats, but it had been a fleeting thought. For all I knew, they could be a friendly bunch and nothing untoward had happened to Bartholomew at the hands of the witches.
The sounds became louder as we grew closer. Luckily, none of the kids spotted us as we made our way through the thick bank of trees. Pearl held out her hand to indicate I should stop. She crouched, and I followed her lead.
Neat rows of creamy houses sat in a square around the group, their outer walls broken up by robust mahogany beams, thick, thatched roofs crowning them like an insurance brokers dream. Cobbles stretched out over the square, and a fire crackled and spit from a huge pit in the centre. Twelve of them gathered around the fire, and I focused my vision on their faces, unable to prevent a gasp from escaping. Pearl moved rapidly, placing a palm over my mouth and shooting me a glare. I nodded and removed her hand.
“There’s Grace.” I hadn’t seen her for thirteen years, but I would recognise her chocolate brown eyes and matching wild, shoulder-length hair anywhere. Her eyes were the same shade as her father’s. She lounged on an over-sized, sheepskin cushion, her denim-clad legs stretched out in front of her.
Pearl sniffed, long and hard. “They’re drinking from her.”
I followed suit and picked up a faint floral scent I knew belonged to Grace. I studied her face. Her eyes danced as she threw her head back and laughed at something one of the witches said.
“She looks so happy,” I whispered to Pearl without taking my eyes off Grace.
“They could have used a spell on her, making her compliant with their wishes. Most of them are high.”
I glanced around the faces. A few eyelids fell to half-mast, stupid, faraway smiles across their mouths.
I swished out of the tree line and stood by the fire, opposite Grace. Pearl had tried to stop me, but I moved too quickly for her, slipping by her outstretched hand.
“Hey. Impressive party,” I stated jovially, my hands on my hips and feet planted shoulder width apart, ready for what may come.
Sharp gasps flooded my ears, the woman closest to me tugged her newborn baby close to her chest and scrambled away, landing in a man’s lap. The man barely noticed my arrival, his pupils dilated so much his irises were a thin sliver around them.
Grace scrambled to her feet, her fists clenched and lips pulled back over her teeth. “Who are you? What do you want?”
“You don’t remember me?” I pressed my hand to my chest in mock offence. Grace’s eyes narrowed. I failed to establish whether it was because I made her angry or if she was struggling to recall me.
I glanced around. The witches had all gotten to their feet, except for the woman with her child, who was still curled up in a ball on the man’s lap.
“I’m your aunty Teagan,” I told her. A hi
nt of amusement laced my voice.
Her brows furrowed as her scrutiny of my face intensified. Silence fell over the square, the only noise being the crackle and spitting from the fire, then the creak of the door from the house behind Grace. A woman moved fluidly from out of the shadows, her white knit dress flowing around her, dragging over the cobbles. Her facial muscles tensed and dark eyes bored into mine like a hammer driving a nail through solid stone.
The atmosphere shifted. Everyone had been close to terrified when I showed up unexpectantly, but the confidence now brimming from them since the arrival of the woman was palpable. I glanced at Grace, who wore a beaming grin. Her eyes glinted in the fire as she stared at me, as though I was in trouble now.
“Why have you come here?” the woman asked, still walking with precise and careful steps until the glow of the fire lit up her chiselled, high cheekbones.
“I came for her.” I pointed at Grace, not allowing my eyes to be distracted away from the woman.
“Grace?” The woman spoke her name as a question.
“I swear, Freya. I have no idea who this stinking vampire is.”
Oh, wow, I thought. She’s definitely her mother’s daughter.
“She said she’s her aunt,” one of the witches offered, glowering in Grace’s direction.
“It was a joke, you fucking moron,” I spat at the witch, who took a step back in response. “I know her. She just doesn’t recall. Her mother and uncle sent me to fetch her. They’re worried about her, and I can see why.” I waved a hand around the circle, stopping slightly longer over the paralytic witches who been enjoying a young wolf’s blood more than could be considered tasteful.
Freya surveyed them individually, her lips twitching at those who struggled to maintain an upright position. It appeared to me they were going to have this woman’s wrath rain down on them after this whole confrontation finished.
“Do you wish to leave with this vampire?” Freya directed her question to Grace, who shook her head feverishly.
