Undone By Blood (The Vampire Flynn Book 5)

by Peter Dawes

  “Oxford Circus. A small pub called The Centre Market.”

  “Poor soul. Stuck fraternizing with the locals. Stay put unless it becomes dangerous. I’ll have Richard come and fetch you.”

  Evie hung up and I returned the phone to the bartender, thanking him after he took possession of it again. Once I had ordered a pint of beer to nurse, I returned to the shadows, attempting to avoid any scenario where I encountered trouble right before being rescued. Fifteen minutes afterward, the familiar human assistant appeared in the front of the pub, motioning to me once we had made eye contact. I nodded and followed him out the front, not bothering to talk until I had been secured inside the vehicle.

  “I am placing a substantial amount of trust in you two at the moment,” I said. “I hope this does not turn out to be a ride to a police station.”

  Richard laughed, starting the car and pulling out into traffic. “None of that, sir,” he said. “Ms. Stanton would have my head if I did.” I saw him peer up at his rearview mirror, as much to assess traffic as to look at me. “I expect her to be a little confused, though. Last time we saw you, you were a vampire.”

  “One of the many tricks up my sleeve.” I flashed him a wan smile and settled in for the ride. Richard granted me my silence, and in the short journey to Evie’s flat, I felt a tremendous amount of exhaustion crest over me, threatening to compel my eyes shut. Mercifully, we arrived before I could succumb. Richard advised me to stay quiet and not to draw attention to myself as we navigated through the apartment building, but even when we entered the residence itself, I did not feel as though I could relax. Instead, I lingered in the entryway, allowing Richard to exit the vestibule ahead of me.

  “Ms. Stanton, your guest,” he said, strolling toward the bar counter and setting her car keys atop it. “Do you have any further need of me right now?”

  “Not presently, but please fetch Peter a drink,” called Evie from another room. “I’ll be right out.”

  He nodded, looking at me and raising an eyebrow. “Scotch,” I said reflexively, remembering only after Richard walked away that I had yet to eat anything for the evening, as either human or vampire. My chest ached as if providing me that reminder and I reached up, rubbing the borrowed shirt while trying not to aggravate the wound underneath. Slowly, I let myself wander into the living room, veering toward the plush couches where I had taken my previous meeting with Evie. Richard brought my drink over, then turned down the corridor which led to the remaining rooms in Evie’s apartment.

  Only a few minutes later, Evie herself made an appearance. “Well, I’m thankful that Richard told me about your current condition,” she quipped, “Because I would’ve been startled to see a very human seer sitting in my living room.” She walked up to the couch opposite from me, placing her hands on the back of it while remaining standing. “Do you know how many vampires would kill for that ability?”

  “I have some idea,” I said. “Considering our mutual nemesis himself might be one of them.” Lifting the glass to my mouth, I took another sip of Scotch and grimaced when it burned on its way down my throat. My gaze shifted downward while I attempted to gather my thoughts. “I am in this condition for a reason, though explaining it probably demands I be more forthright with you about a few things.”

  “Considering the state the Met found you in, I can imagine so. You’ll be happy to know I don’t need to lift a pinky finger to make this all go away. The Supernatural Order will do that all on their own.”

  Glancing back at her, I furrowed my brow. She sighed, walking around the couch at last to sit on it. “I received a call, asking if you had been in contact with me,” Evie said, settling in. “The person on the phone refused to give me too many details, but they said Brandon Gillies was dead and that you were possibly aiding a very dangerous immortal.”

  “Yes, because my brother is a vicious psychopath,” I muttered. Resting against the couch, I reclined back until my head rested on the pillowed back, my eyes staring at the ceiling. I focused on the ornamental light fixture that remained shut off. “How did you know about the police?”

  “The news reported several bodies found in Whitechapel with an unconscious man in custody. I figured it was too much of a coincidence for it to be anything else.” The area where she sat remained quiet for a few lingering moments, devoid of so much as movement, let alone anything else. Finally, I heard a small shift and the sound of her drawing breath. “So, what have you failed to tell me, Peter? I’ve canceled my appointments for the rest of the night.”

  It took a moment for me to gather it all together in a collection of cause and effect that I could present for Evie to understand. Starting with Monica, I spared her no details, telling my newfound ally about my wife’s changes and the deception she inevitably orchestrated. I spoke about Flynn and about his being seduced, leading into the part where we suspected his subterfuge. Evie listened to me talk about the scrolls I had destroyed ten years ago, and Patrick’s apparent attempt to replicate it in some fashion.

  When I finished, she did not answer immediately.

  I looked down from the ceiling toward her, seeing the posture she had assumed while she took her own counsel. Resting her arm on the couch, she had brought her hand to her mouth and pursed her lips, her eyes staring somewhere in the distance. “Tell me then, Peter, am I at risk even having you here?” she finally asked, the question coming so suddenly and without anything to preempt it, that it forced me aback. Her gaze shifted to me while I considered the answer to her question. “Will your split personality turn his sword on me?” she clarified.

  “Difficult for him to do so, considering the police took my weapons,” I said. “Though if you are asking if I could turn on you, then yes, I could.” Lifting both hands, I ran my fingers through my hair, smoothing back the locks. “I might need Katerina’s help to dig out his programming.”

  “Programming?” Evie arched a brow.

  “Whatever switches Monica engaged to help him take control. She has some sort of suggestion implanted in him, it sounds like, considering it took stabbing me for Robin to stop Flynn. I do not even know if he realizes he is a puppet.” I sighed. “This, by the way, is why I am human. I was too injured to focus past my bloodlust at a rather inopportune moment. I have not found any better time for me to switch back and attempt to feed.”

  “That injury has to hurt in a human state, though,” Evie countered. She frowned and something about the expression on her face shifted, as if she was more annoyed with herself than with me for whatever she was thinking. “Did you know we have individual talents, Peter? The vampires of my bloodline.” Her countenance turned deadly serious. “It’s the one true card we keep tucked up our sleeve to make up for our lack of magical acumen. Rest assured that if you come at me with that look in your eyes conveying murder, you’ll discover it seconds before you die.”

  “If I make an attempt on you, then I deserve to be put down.”

  Evie sighed. “The sad thing is I don’t believe that to be true. It would be easier if I could bring myself to believe that, but you’re still too valuable to the cause, even with your handicaps.” She lifted to a stand, turning away from me and starting immediately for the kitchen. “I’ll have Richard fetch you some blood and a proper change of clothing while I collect your sorceress. It sounds as if this Patrick has stepped up his game. I don’t like it.”

  “Neither do I,” I said, unable to acknowledge that my fear lay mainly in Monica and Robin’s well-being. At the same time, I did not feel I needed to acknowledge that with words. Regardless of whether Evie saw it as a weakness or a liability, she seemed aware of where my heart laid and did not fault me for it. Yes, she provided no comfort. She issued no condemnation either, though, and I appreciated that. When she left the room, I stayed seated on the couch and reclined against the back again. Shutting my eyes, I tried not to let the morose feelings churning in my stomach catch up with me. Sleep, it seemed, was the preferable alternative.

  It could not shiel
d me forever, though. I startled awake when Richard nudged me with blood packets, asking for my sizes and measurements so he could fetch me a suit. I took the offering and stopped him before he could walk away. “How difficult would it be to get a sword away from the police?” I asked.

  “I could get you a different sword,” he said. “Ms. Stanton has several different kinds.”

  “This one is rather important, though. I hesitate to say this, because I know how this might sound, but it was made specifically for me.”

  Richard nodded. Without answering the question, he strode away, something about the way he departed giving me the sense he had accepted an order from another vampire. When I was certain I had been left alone, I shut my eyes and took a deep breath, focusing again on that switch which had turned me human. Opening one of the blood packets preemptively, I steadied myself as much as I could and thought of those things which made me vampire. It was the thirst I had suppressed which carried me over to the other side.

  My pulse slowed to a stop. My lungs seized and although the world went black for a few seconds, I recovered before I could spill the blood. As the fangs formed in my mouth again, the hunger I had felt beforehand rushed headlong into my consciousness and did not wait for permission to be sated. Engorging myself on two of the packets, I did not pause until the third had been half-depleted. My head spun and my instincts still screamed louder than my rational brain could, but in time, they settled to a low roar. Gaze shifting to Evie, I suddenly realized she had been standing near the living room, watching.

  Flashing a small, apologetic smile at her, I let it disappear as quickly as it had appeared.

  She nodded, not masking the wariness in her expression. “The young lady should be here any moment,” Evie said, leaving it at that before disappearing into the kitchen. I nodded and finished the packet I had started to consume, retreating into her bathroom afterward to situate myself. The reflection I beheld still looked pallid, but I felt far more like myself than I had since leaving Turin. Even if a small part of me missed being numb.

  Until I stepped out from the bathroom and discovered Katerina standing in the vestibule, looking distraught. When she caught sight of me, she peered around, and when I realized what she sought, my heart broke anew. I closed the distance between us and placed a hand on her shoulder, prompting her to look me in the eyes when I did. “We are going to get him back. I promise,” I said.

  Katerina nodded, clearing her throat and looking away lest I see the tears forming in her eyes. Robin’s young ward walked toward the couch I had been sitting on, lowering onto the cushion while keeping her posture closed in and defensive. I followed her with Evie standing nearby, arms folded across her chest, silently observing. Settling in the seat opposite Katerina, I prompted her gaze toward me.

  “You have something controlling you,” she said. Katerina nodded over at Evie, her blonde hair spilling over her shoulder as she did. “Ms. Stanton told me you needed my help to get it out.”

  “Yes, I do,” I said. When Katerina looked at me again, I worked to settle myself, knowing that the issue of losing both Monica and Robin would not be resolved without me focusing first. “Katerina, my wife was using a spell to control Flynn, and I do not believe he knows this. If he does, she has deluded him somehow into accepting it, but either way, he is going to fight us.”

  “Then you need to convince him that you know the truth.” Katerina held out her hands. When I took hold of them, she shut her eyes, her breathing slowing and her body relaxing. “Close your eyes,” she said, “And I will help you look for him. Once he surrenders, I’ll be able to remove the spell, but I can’t before that. If I try too soon, then your wife and the others might be able to stop me.”

  “Very well,” I said, my lids drifting shut. After taking a deep breath as well, I climbed into the back of my thoughts and lowered the gauntlet onto the floor.

  ‘Come out and face me,’ I said to Flynn, ‘If you are going to continue to be a nuisance, then you have me to reckon with. And our reckoning is sorely overdue.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  I stood alone in the dark of my mind, seeing nobody there and nothing to use as a point of orientation. Pervasive blackness filled the space around me, deep and lacking form while managing somehow to be unnerving at the same time. I felt a set of eyes settle on me, aware of a predator lurking in the shadows, sizing me up as prey.

  “Come out and face me, Flynn,” I said. “I know that you are there.”

  The sound of soft chuckling echoed toward me, a low, mocking tone which gave me my first indication that this was not going to be a simple task. A faint glow shone on the area around us and as Flynn stepped out, I found myself marveling again over our similarities and vast differences. His stature and build, and the direct resemblance my doppelganger bore to me still put me on edge, but the look in his eyes made my blood run cold. In that moment, I saw what so many others had only moments before issuing their last breath.

  Silently, I wondered if he had the ability to do the same to me.

  “You sound so eager to confront me,” he said. “Are you feeling daring today, Peter?” His eyes ran across me, evaluating me as if to weigh how serious of a threat I posed. Crossing his arms behind his back, he began to pace around me. “Let me guess. You’re angry with me over what happened with Robin.”

  “I am thankful I cannot remember the half of what you might have done,” I responded, “Though knowing you meant him harm does not sit well with me. Tell me, who controls your puppet strings, Flynn?”

  He stopped with his side turned to face me, head bowed and a laugh passing through his lips devoid of any amusement. “You know better than to say things like that, because you know they provoke me toward anger. Which leads me to believe you want me swinging wildly for you. Am I getting warm?”

  “Not at all.” My shoulders squared, eyes set on him in a deliberate fashion while I frowned at him. “You are being controlled and, in the process, are controlling me. Patrick has Monica and now, he has our brother, too. Watch the world burn for all I care, but do so without causing any further damage. I will be busy undoing all of your mistakes.”

  He weighed me in silence, and I him, until his grin broadened enough to show teeth. When I held my ground, Flynn laughed again, only now uproarious peals of mirth echoed in the space around us. His eyes lit up as he beheld me. “You are ever the optimist. It’s been staggering, all of these years, living inside of your head and seeing the way you view the world. The gallant knight –” His arms spread out on both sides. “– Waiting to ride into battle and save the helpless from themselves. The grand, psychic messiah.”

  “Fuck you, Flynn. I thought you actually loved them as well.”

  “Do not test me, boy scout.” His disposition shifted so quickly, I might have gotten whiplash if I had not expected that to strike a nerve. Flynn sobered to the point of hinting malice, a scowl overtaking his expression with his arms lowering to his sides. “You are delusional and foolhardy and for years I’ve been the one with the difficult tasks, all to defend the things you cherish the most. I am the reason your children slept soundly at night. I am the guard at the post while you rest. I stain my hands because you can’t be bothered to sully yours and you’re going to be the one to lecture me about love?” Flynn scoffed. “It’s my time, seer. You’ve had your ten years.”

  Slowly, he encroached upon my space, claiming the distance between us by stalking forward. I retreated a few paces and shook my head. “You will not take control of us,” I said. “Not so long as you are going to destroy everything I have built.”

  A cold and calculating smile spread across his lips. “I am only embracing inevitability,” he countered, pausing mere feet away. “You’re the one who built your house on sand. Consider me the high tide.”

  While I expected any number of things – from some hidden blade to an attempt to punch me – it took me by surprise when he thrust his hand forward and knocked me aback with a pulse of invisible energ
y. I remained standing, but something about the way I looked at him brought back that sadistic bout of amusement he derived from getting the better of me. “For starters, your access to my gifts is coming to an end,” I said.

  “Afraid I might wield them better?”

  “Afraid you might not care how you wield them.” I blocked his next attempt to knock me off-balance, shielding myself with the same telekinetic energy he employed against me. One hand lifted and remained pointed at him, both as a caution and a defense. “What inevitability are you embracing anyway, Flynn? The destruction of the world?”

  “Please, like I care about that. Weren’t you the one who just accused me of wanting to watch it burn?” He flicked his hand, but could not budge the barrier I had constructed. “I give a damn about one thing. Her.”

  “Then help me get her back home.”

  “You don’t understand this, because you’re too stupid, and I have no time to explain it to you.” Flynn’s hands lit with energy, the severity of his gaze intensifying. “Step aside, Peter, or it will take centuries for you to see the world through your eyes again.”

  What little space remained between us crackled, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I perked an eyebrow at him, gathering more energy toward my defensive wall. “You intend to make me a prisoner in my own head using gifts intended for me, Flynn? How well do you see this working in the long run?” More and more, I continued to draw power inward, keeping my eyes set on him as he seemed to be doing the same thing. “All for what? This is not only about her.”

  “It’s entirely about her. She’s lost to us any other way.”

  “The only way she is lost is if we surrender.”

  Flynn lashed out at me, throwing everything he had built at the wall I had formed. While it buckled, it did not break and what little energy remained, I threw back at him. He stumbled backward, and I launched another attack at him before he could regroup. When the next wave swept his footing out from underneath him, he quickly scrambled to come to his feet again.