Twisted Wings (A Shaded Rose Series Book 2)

by J Wells

  “Jessica, is that you?”

  I see the shadow of his naked form move behind the shower curtain. The rings edge along the rail and the curtain is pulled back.

  Alex Scott stares at me.

  “Who the fuck are you?” he yells.

  I don’t answer, but launch myself forwards, grabbing the shower curtain between my hands. He slips and falls back, hitting his head against the side of the bath. I pounce on him, holding his arms up against the taps. Water rains down from the shower head. Blood seeps from the back of his head, and I watch as it runs down the white acrylic and turns the water scarlet before it drains away.

  With the shower curtain scrunched between my hands, I pull it taut and press it across his mouth and nose, making him gasp for breath. But there is no breath for Alex Scott, as his airways are blocked and he can only suck in mouthfuls of plastic. I have the bastard in my arms as he fights for his life, like my Jazlynn fought for hers.

  “Guess you’re washing the blood off your hands,” I sneer, looking down at the cast on his hand. “But this isn’t the way you’re going to die, oh no. I have a far more painful death for you.”

  I pull the shower curtain from his face; his skin is now an insipid grey. I stare down at this pathetic man. My teeth don’t lengthen, but shoot out from between my gums. Needle-sharp, I plough them with force into his neck, feeling my venom seeping into his veins. His shrill screams are music to my ears. His fight is replaced by involuntary jerks as his body goes into spasm. Ripping my teeth from his neck, I reach down to the tiled floor and link my fingers around the strap of his gold watch, which I then place face up on the side of the bath.

  Scrunching his black hair in my fist, I shove his head round.

  “Tick-tock, tick-tock,” I call down into his ear.

  I want him to see the hands as they journey round the watch’s face.

  “Murderer!” I scream at him, and slowly I stand and place my feet either side of his naked body.

  I see the outline of tattoos on his chest that I know he will never get finished.

  “My venom is very fast-acting … you will be dead within the hour.”

  Nobody messes with my lady, I think as I close the bathroom door.

  Tristan sits on the opposite side of the landing, his knees drawn up to his chest as he leans back against a small piece of wall between two doors.

  “I thought I told you to go home.”

  “I found this on the hall table.” Tristan holds up Alex Scott’s driving licence.

  I snatch it from his hand and look down into his plastic face. I’ll keep this as a memento for Rose, I think, and slip it into my back trouser pocket.

  “Is the deed done?” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Do you want me to go back in? I can’t kill him, but I can always lose him in the bathroom mirror.” He smiles.

  “There’s no need, it’s only a matter of time.”

  “Lucian, you do know what you’ve done?”

  I nod in response. “Yes, but I don’t care.”

  Tristan opens his wings and we rise into the night sky, leaving behind 42 Maple Drive and Alex Scott to enjoy the last few moments of his life.

  The clipboard is closed.

  “So is that all you remember?” the police lady questions.

  I nod in response. The cops are on their way to my flat as we speak. My blood runs cold; I know what they’ll find.

  The blonde-haired policewoman disturbs my thoughts. “We’ll need to take you down to the station for further questioning, okay?”

  Her eyes are wide as she awaits an answer.

  Again, I nod my head. She backs out of the car with what I can only imagine to be a sympathetic smile and shuts the door. Blinded by flashing blue lights, the skin on my back clings to the leather upholstery as I try to pull myself up in my seat, throwing a tentative gaze through the windscreen. Lucian’s family have been dragged from the castle and only a few remain; they are also being questioned and stand in a huddle at the side of the hatch.

  With their vampire traits returning, Caspar and many others scampered to the forest at such speed that there was no way the police could catch them on foot.

  A tap on the window causes my head to shoot round. My mind is eased when the car door opens and Lucian’s face peers towards me. As the door is opened a little wider, Tristan comes into view.

  “Rose, what happened? We haven’t been gone an hour,” Lucian said as he slips onto the car seat and sits at my side.

  Tristan crouches down, looking in.

  “It must have been the sniffer dogs. The castle went from being silent to us hearing running feet, shouting and barking. The door of the bedchamber swung open, and Elizabeth and me were grabbed by the arms and frogmarched up the staircase and into the forest. The guns, they’re all there.”

  I turn my head and point between those in blue uniforms. The cops crouch down and pick the pistols from the forest floor before sealing them in plastic bags.

  “Here,” Lucian says, and slips his hand into the pocket of his trousers.

  He slides a small plastic card across the seat towards me. Lifting it between my fingers, I squint down at a photo ID.

  “The bastard won’t hurt anyone again, I’ve made sure of that,” Lucian tells me; I pick up on the smugness in his voice.

  I frown. “Who’s this?” I blurt out, lifting the ID closer to my face.

  Through the darkness my eyes struggle to make out the name.

  “Alex Scott, the bastard that killed my lady.”

  I shake my head. “But, Lucian, I’ve never seen this man before.”

  He grabs my wrist, thrusting the card only inches before my eyes.

  “Look harder!” His voice has lost its smugness and there is now an urgency in his tone. “He was the bloke that sat next to you at The Silken Kite, the one with the cast on his hand, the pisshead…”

  I sit in thought for a moment; there is a brief recollection of such a man.

  “Yes, I think I remember,” I add with a nod.

  I feel Lucian’s hand release my wrist.

  “Thank God,” he utters.

  “But, he wasn’t the man that killed Jazlynn.”

  “Rose, you lied, you said the man that killed Jazlynn was the one from The Silken Kite.”

  “I didn’t lie.” My face straightens. “He was there and was making quite a scene. He was shouting at the barmaid, you know, Lucy. He turned and looked at me … I couldn’t forget that face.”

  I close my eyes; his face is right there, staring back at me.

  “Go on…” Lucian prompts, shaking my arm.

  “He looked rough.”

  “Rough?” he pipes up. “What do you mean?”

  “The teardrop tattoos that ran down his cheek. It was him, Lucian, he was the one.”

  “Fuck!” Lucian snarls, kicking out at the seat in front of him. “Why the fuck didn’t you say so?”

  I can feel his body tense beside me.

  “Lucian, what have you done?”

  His head jerks round towards Tristan, who’s still crouched in the open door.

  “I’ve bitten the wrong fucking man.”

  “Who then?” Tristan asks.

  “Vinny, he’s our man, that bastard with the tattoos on his face. He was a coward, beat Lucy up, but I went round and sorted him.”

  I lean forward in my seat, enabling me to see Tristan, who is still crouched down, looking up at the sky.

  “They aren’t coming yet; Alex Scott still lives,” Tristan said. His eyes drop and now focus on Lucian.

  “How long has it been?” Lucian appears to be talking to himself as he gazes down at his watch. “Tristan, if your wings can take us back, maybe there will be just enough time for me to suck the venom from him.”

  There’s a slight rise to the upholstery as Lucian shuffles from my side and steps out of the car.

  “Where are you going?” I call after him, but he gives no answer, so I slide across
the seat and dip my head to leave the car.

  Dazzled by a golden light, I shield my eyes with my hands. I am unable to see, but can hear a bombardment of words.

  “Daddy, that’s him, that’s the man.”

  I recognise the voice of Brooke, the schoolgirl. As I squint and regain my sight, I see her pointing at Tristan. A middle-aged cop with grey hair has his arm around her shoulder and is shining a torch directly into Tristan’s face.

  “Go on, Tristan, show them your wings, show them what you really are.”

  “That’s enough, Brooke.” The officer nudges her with his arm. “I’ll take it from here.”

  “But, Daddy, he’s an angel, and they’re all vampires!” she shouts, turning towards the remainder of Lucian’s family.

  “Vampires? Angels?” Another cop laughs. “Gabriel, I hope this isn’t a wind-up.”

  “It’s no wind-up, it’s him!” Brooke screams.

  The forest, with its nightly serenades, is suddenly awoken by ear-piercing sirens. I wince and grab my ears as my eyes dart towards Brooke and the cops. The starless sky forsakes its swarthy overcoat, and as I gaze up it comes alive with the brightest white lights, resembling florescent funnels that shoot down before becoming lost between the trees. The forest floor is aglow with an unexplainable brightness.

  Slowly the din subsides and an uncanny silence takes its place, but this is not a silence I am familiar with. The police dogs no longer bark or pull on their leads, and instead sit or roll onto their sides where they lie submissively. Like the flick of a switch, the forest is plunged back into darkness, with only a beam of torchlight highlighting Lucian’s face. I grab his hand, shake it and look into his eyes for answers.

  “What the hell’s happening?”

  “This, Rose, is why we have never killed a human.”

  Though I am looking at Lucian, I manage to catch Tristan’s eye. He appears uneasy and looks down at the ground, his feet playing with the fallen leaves.

  “Alex Scott is dead,” he mutters. With a fleeting glance my way, he adds, “The dark angels are coming.”

  “That’s good?” I ask.

  Tristan frowns and shakes his head.

  “Isn’t that your cue to join them?” Lucian enquires.

  “No, Lucian.”

  I see the friendly pat Tristan leaves on his shoulder.

  “My place is with you and your family.”

  “I told you, Daddy!” Brooke screams. “Arrest him, arrest them both!”

  An indistinct shadow flits through the darkness at such speed that it is hard to see. Brooke is ripped from her father’s arms, and as he takes a few steps he loses his balance, though manages to chase the figure using the light from his wide-beamed torch. I stifle my gasps with my hands as I see a creature hovering only feet above us, his jet-black feathered wings far outshining Tristan’s, with the length and elegance of a peacock’s. There are no whites to his eyes as he throws me a dead-pan stare. He’s beautiful, I think to myself as his ripped torso gleams in the torchlight.

  Whisked from the floor, Brooke wriggles in the creature’s arms and cries out for Tristan to help her. But Tristan’s wings do not open and his feet stay rooted to the ground.

  “Why is she screaming?” I ask, turning to Tristan. “She’s got nothing to worry about; it’s an angel, isn’t it? Angels are godly, they don’t hurt humans.”

  “Not these angels, they don’t care. They are Lucifer’s angels, and will kill anyone that gets in their way.”

  The perpetual beating of wings hovers only feet above us. I keep staring up, but I can hear shouts and screams coming from every direction. Brooke’s dad still cries out for her release. With my eyes on the girl, I hardly notice as he is swept from the ground and disappears into the darkness.

  “Quiet,” Tristan whispers, gesturing towards Lucian’s family.

  I turn towards Tristan.

  “She’s bait, Rose,” he tells me. “Like bats they are blind, but their senses are keen. With the breaking of the contract, they won’t rest till the forest is rid of every vampire, and anyone else who happens to get in their way.” His voice is now lower than a whisper.

  I suck in my breath and gaze back up at the sky. Every dark cloud above me appears to move, as though the darkness has been transformed into large wings, and the ungodly creatures circle above us in their hundreds. Though Lucian’s family have taken heed of Tristan’s gesture, they, like Lucian and me, stand in silence. The cops’ cries grow louder as the creatures swoop down at speed from the sky, and all I can do is watch as one by one the cops are taken.

  A female officer rustles a plastic bag between her fingers and rips the pistols out. She lifts her head and glances towards me, then skims three pistols in our direction. I gather them up in my arms, one for each of us. Then she swivels around on her knees and skims a couple of pistols towards the remainder of Lucian’s family. I guess she too picked up on Tristan’s gesture, as she doesn’t utter a word.

  With our feet still and hardly a breath taken, our only communication is passed through our eyes as like prey we wait for the inevitable.

  The leaves on the trees are almost ripped from their branches as Caspar, Reggie, Charles and many more returning vampires race towards the mound of pistols. As they barge into the female officer she is pushed from her knees and gasps, falling forwards onto her face.

  “Let the games begin!” Caspar shouts at the top of his voice.

  With hand to mouth, chanting like Indians, they run in an orderly line back towards the trees, shooting golden bullets up into the sky. The black angels swoop down, and like shadows in the night they follow.

  My gaze drops and I see Tristan take Lucian’s hand; Lucian’s hand then joins with my own. With silent steps we make a path between the leaves and head towards the two remaining officers and their dogs. Elizabeth, Chloe and Julian come up from behind to join us. Edmond, who is a step behind, bends down, picks up the pistols and hands them out.

  “Edmond,” Lucian murmurs, “this is no longer your fight, you are no longer vampires. Take Rose, the officers and the others into the castle, you’ll all be safe there until night has passed. Then be on your way.”

  My eyes widen. “I’m going nowhere,” I protest.

  “Shhhhh, keep your voice down,” Lucian hisses. prodding me in the side. “Rose, if you die, we all die.”

  I snatch my hand from his. “Guess we’re in it together then.” I smile up into his eyes. “Aren’t we?”

  He smiles back, and taking my cheeks between his hands he kisses my forehead.

  “I could never love you as I love Jazlynn, but I do love you, Rose, as a brother would love his sister. You are part of us now, part of our family.”

  His amber eyes, which usually show no emotion, suddenly say so much and I can feel the sincerity of his words. His fingers slip from my cheeks as he turns towards Edmond.

  “So long, old boy,” I hear him whisper.

  I watch Edmond step into the open hatch, and lifting his arm he takes the first police dog; the officers and Lucian’s family are quick to follow. The hatch is then closed behind them.

  Lucian raises a pistol.

  “Till death.”

  It sinks in what Lucian means; we are far outnumbered, but we will fight with Caspar and the others, united, to the death.

  “Lucian, one second.”

  I can’t help but frown at Tristan’s odd request. I’m grabbed and then held within Tristan’s arms. Lucian grins, and then turns his back.

  “It was my choice to fall for you,” he whispers in my ear. “I love you, Rose, and if I could have my time over, I’d do exactly the same.”

  “With all my heart I love you back.” I’m hearing myself say words I haven’t said or felt since Jai’s death, and I don’t just say them, I mean them.

  His lips are soft, yet his kiss is firm. As his lips leave mine, I know he is telling me goodbye.

  “I will fight for you, Rose, I will fight for you all, but my fight isn�
�t here on the ground.” He points to the sky. “My fight is up there, with them.”

  His arms release me and drop to his side. He takes a step away from Lucian and me, and his swan-like wings unfold. It seems that words elude us all. With a pistol clasped within his hands and the slow beat of his wings, he leaves the forest floor and me with a smile.

  “Looks like this is where our journey ends,” Lucian announces. “You have one gun with six chambers and six golden bullets, the only known way of killing an angel. Don’t waste any, shoot to kill. From here on it’s every man and woman for themselves.”

  He reaches towards me, and I feel the soft squeeze of his hand.

  “For our meeting, the masquerade, for old time’s sake, eh?” Lucian says, leaning forward.

  Our lips meet, not in a passionate kiss but a peck, but like with Tristan, I feel he bids me farewell. He turns, I blink and he’s gone.

  I am alone, forsaken by my bravado and strength of mind. I shudder at the sound of beating wings that plays over and over in my head. I’m at a total loss, and have no idea which way to turn. Whatever I decide to do, I cannot be heard, so I slip off my shoes, turn to my left and tiptoe over the undergrowth. Weaving my way between thickening trees, screams and gunshots seem to shoot at me from every side. I look down at the pistol in my hands and play with the cold metal barrel, twisting it round with my fingers.

  I look down at the cold reality I hold. I can’t do this, I can’t kill. Unable to think clearly, I sink to the floor where I sit between two holly bushes; they prick at my arms where the guns can only prick at my conscience.

  I lower myself back, and my eyes chase the starless sky and watch the creatures in flight. It seems as if the minutes run into hours as I allow my eyelids to lower.

  A nearby rustling causes my eyes to shoot open. It stands over me, its face inches from my own. The creature sniffs, inhales. I can hear its drawn-out breaths and I hold mine. I know I can’t move or shout, so I lie rigid, imagining myself to be sucked against the forest floor, becoming part of the flora and fauna I lie within. There is no softness to its face, only hard and angular lines, its black cheeks sunken, its eyes just empty sockets. I know it can’t see me, yet it seems to stare, right into my soul. A black snake-like tongue shoots out from between its lips, and I can’t help but shudder as its rough surface makes its way up my cheek. I feel for the gun which I dropped at my side. Focus, Rose, focus, I tell myself. The tips of my fingers touch cold metal and I close my hand around the pistol. Trembling, I lift it inch by inch until it rests against the creature’s temple. Its tongue retracts and I hurriedly search for the trigger. A gun fires and the creature’s head turns, but it was not me who fired the shot and I drop the pistol. The black angel lifts up from me, standing proud, and a sigh of relief passes from my lips as it heads away in the direction the gun was fired.