by Steve Feasey
He quickly walked off to his right, pulling his hood back from his head now, not wanting his peripheral vision restricted. He sped up, turning left, then right, and entering a narrow street with rows of garages on one side and ugly, squat business premises on the other. At the end of the road he could see an arch in a brick wall that looked as if it led into a children’s playground; brightly painted swings and slides were just visible through the gap. In the background beyond this appeared to be a high-rise block of flats. That feeling of being followed was stronger than ever. Trey started running in the direction of the park, quickly lengthening his stride until he was sprinting. Doing his best to ignore the pain in his knee, he ate up the ground in front of him. He burst through the narrow brick archway, skidding to a halt as he did so and taking up position to one side of the opening. He quickly glanced about him, relieved to find that the playground was empty and that a line of tall trees at the far end obscured the view of most of the windows in the flats. At the last second he decided to remove his trousers and sweatshirt, kicking off his trainers too so that he stood there in nothing but his underwear, socks and a T-shirt.
Please God, don’t let anyone look out now and see me standing in a children’s play area in nothing but my pants!
It occurred to him that this could all be yet another episode of paranoia. He was losing it. He was imagining—
He stopped, holding his breath. Sure enough, Trey heard the sound of running footsteps approaching. That uneasy feeling he’d experienced at the bookshop was back, setting his nerves jangling and his heart thumping against his chest. He closed his eyes, praying that what he was about to do was the right thing.
He Changed.
The huge barrel-chested seven-foot werewolf that he now was crouched, and as his pursuer emerged through the bricked archway Trey threw himself forward, knocking whoever it was down to the ground. There was a loud ‘Unfgh!’ as they hit the small grassy mound on the other side of the opening. Trey was quickly on top of his quarry, pinning it down with his weight. He reached forward and pulled the hood back off its head.
But it was no demon beneath the hood. A pair of piercingly blue eyes stared out at him from behind a tangle of blonde hair.
Ella blew the hair away from her face, her annoyed expression quickly turning to amusement as she took in the astonished look on the werewolf’s face.
‘Hello, Trey,’ she said.
When Trey had got over his shock at seeing Ella again, he pulled her back on to her feet. Growling an apology, he turned his back, returned to his human form and put his clothes back on. The ripped and ruined mess of his underwear and T-shirt were picked up and placed in a bin. Eventually he turned to look at Ella again and offered her an awkward smile.
‘We should go somewhere and have a chat,’ he suggested.
They found a little cafe where they could sit outside in the sunshine. He sat across the table from her, studying her as they waited for the waitress to fetch them their drinks. She was tall and attractive, with high cheekbones that made those penetrating blue eyes all the more startling. He remembered how, when they’d met for the first time in his Uncle Frank’s house in Canada, he’d incorrectly suspected she wore coloured lenses. She had the same coloured eyes when she morphed into her white-furred werewolf form, which was unusual: most wolves lost their blue eyes as they grew from cubs to adults.
‘What are you doing in London?’ Trey asked.
Ella explained how her parents had refused to have anything more to do with her following her return from Canada. They reasoned that as she’d been stupid enough to run away with her playboy boyfriend there was no place for her back with them now that it had all gone wrong. She hadn’t told them how she’d been lured there and deliberately bitten by a werewolf pack’s alpha leader, turning her into a lycanthrope too so that she had no choice but to stay there with him. How could she? She paused in her story with a sad smile and a shrug.
‘But you know all about the Pack, and how it ended.’ She gave him a strange look, pushing a strand of hair away from her eyes. When she continued it was in a lighter tone. ‘So I decided to travel around Europe a bit and take in the sights. I found myself in London, remembered that you lived here, and made up my mind to track you down.’
There was something about her story that didn’t quite ring true with Trey, but he dismissed the thought. He was glad to see her again, regardless of the truth behind why she was really here.
‘So how did you find me?’ he asked.
‘I sensed you,’ she said. She snorted a little and looked back at him with a puzzled expression. ‘We’re werewolves, Trey. Don’t you feel it when there are others like us around?’
He frowned. ‘No, I don’t think I do. At least, not in the way you’re suggesting. I think I sort of knew that you were around once you were close to me on the streets, but that’s about it.’ He shrugged. ‘I guess I’m not your typical werewolf.’
There was a silence between them then. He realized she was staring at his sweatshirt, at the place where the talisman hung on a chain round his neck.
‘Don’t you miss it?’ Ella said eventually.
‘What?’
‘The Pack. Don’t you miss the feeling of … togetherness? Of belonging?’
Trey thought back to his time in Canada with the werewolf pack known as the LG78. He’d gone there to find his uncle, to try and come to terms with what he was and learn about his werewolf heritage. But instead his experiences had simply underlined the differences between him and other lycanthropes. He didn’t fit in with the Pack. Because of the amulet he wore and because he was a true-blood werewolf – born of two, not one, lycanthrope parents – he would never be like them. He was different, and that difference had almost got him killed at the hands of the Pack leader, Jurgen. He looked at the girl sitting opposite him and smiled at her, remembering how she’d saved his life that day.
‘I guess my experience of the Pack is slightly different from yours, Ella.’
She gave him that strange look again. ‘Determined to be the lone wolf, is that it, Trey?’
She reached out for her coffee, and he caught a glimpse of the terrible scar on her arm that had resulted from her boyfriend’s attack. The sight of it reminded him that she too was different. She hadn’t been born a werewolf, and she’d also had to struggle to come to terms with what she’d become when she was deliberately bitten. He frowned, remembering that although his return from Canada still felt fairly recent, her own return had been some time ago and that at least three full moons must have come and gone for her. She had no amulet round her neck to control her transformations when the moon was at its fullest. And there was no Pack to look out for her now during the Change to make sure she didn’t go off on some murderous rampage.
‘How have you coped with your full moons since you’ve been back?’ Trey asked.
She let the question hang in the air between them. Eventually she shook her head, smiled and changed the subject. ‘Look, I’ve got some time in London, and I thought that maybe you and I could hang out?’
Trey frowned. He was about to tell her that he was a little busy right now, when he stopped. Hadn’t he just that morning bemoaned the fact that he never got the chance to act like a normal teenager? Hadn’t he wondered if he would ever be able to hang around with friends in the very way Ella was suggesting now?
‘OK. Yeah, that’d be nice,’ he said.
‘Do you live near here?’
‘Not far.’
‘Great! Maybe you could show me your place?’
Trey thought about the apartment, and how it was teeming with nether-creatures right now. Not to mention Lucien, Tom – Lucien’s right-hand man, Hag the witch and Alexa. His heart did a little bump when he thought of Alexa: he hadn’t told her about Ella, and he wasn’t sure how she’d react to him turning up with her. He glanced back at Ella, who was still smiling. He returned the smile.
‘Yeah, sure. Why not?’
She stood up. �
�Great. Let’s go, shall we?’
‘Now? You want to go right now?’
‘Sure.’ She caught the worried look on his face. ‘Is now a bad time?’
Trey thought for a second before making up his mind. ‘No, not really. I suppose now is as good a time as any.’
2
The drained, dead body of the woman remained on the floor where Caliban had dropped it earlier, and despite the cold, the ripe smell of death filled the room. He had considered simply pitching the corpse out of the window to let it fall and rot at the foot of the tower, but then another idea came to him, and using the simple spell she had taught him, he’d summoned the sorceress. They were alone in the huge tower, and he knew that she would be somewhere deep in its bowels. He had no intention of traipsing down there to find her, and he could imagine the way in which she would be cursing him right now as she made the long journey up to his rooms near the top. He’d once asked her why she didn’t simply move about the place by magic, but she’d rolled her eyes and proceeded to lecture him on how needlessly difficult and draining that would be.
It was dark, although the vampire had little trouble seeing in the gloom, and his acute sense of hearing picked up the sorceress’s approaching footsteps from way off. Eventually she knocked at the door, and the vampire smiled to himself, acknowledging her obedience to his earlier command. It was good to know that this ancient creature could be tamed. It would not be easy, but the sorceress could be made to bend to his will.
‘Come,’ he said in a loud voice, taking up his position on the throne and facing the door as it opened.
‘You summoned me?’
‘Did I?’ Caliban shook his head as if trying to remember why he might have done such a thing. ‘Yes. Yes, I suppose I did.’
Helde waited. After a few moments it became clear that the vampire had no intention of carrying on.
‘Well?’ she said impatiently.
Caliban raised his metal prosthetic hand, and studied one of the bladed fingers as he flexed it in the air before him. ‘Something has been bothering me, and I called you here so that you could put my mind at rest. After you left earlier, it occurred to me that it is foolish to wait any longer for you to demonstrate your powers to me.’
‘I created the portal that got us here. A number of portals, in fact. I should have thought that you understood the great skill and—’
‘Yes, yes,’ Caliban said, waving his hand dismissively. ‘But you know which powers I am referring to – those for which you were given your delightful moniker: Queen of the Dead.’ Caliban stared across at her. ‘It seems to me that your search for this “Shield” has distracted you from the real task in hand.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I, after all, went to a great deal of trouble to resurrect you, and I would not like to think that I went through all of that for nothing.’
‘You doubt my abilities?’
The vampire flashed his fangs at the sorceress. ‘Of course not. But you yourself had been dead for a very long time.’ He narrowed his eyes in her direction. ‘Let us just say that I am concerned your erstwhile skills may have become a little … rusty.’ Caliban threw up his hands in a what-can-you-do gesture. ‘And I’ve had bad experiences with reanimated undead creatures before!’
‘You have nothing to worry about, Caliban. I can assure you—’
‘Be that as it may,’ the vampire interrupted again, ‘I believe I would like to see what I can expect when we finally unleash your powers. So I think a small demonstration is in order.’ He nodded towards the corpse. ‘In your own time.’
There was a pause while Helde considered this. ‘Do you realize how exhausting a reanimation is?’
‘You can have a he-down afterwards.’ Caliban’s eyes bored into the sorceress’s.
Helde frowned, mumbling something under her breath that the vampire couldn’t quite catch. Nevertheless, she walked over to the corpse, looking down at it as she did so. ‘You’d better get the other human.’
‘Which other human?’ Caliban asked.
‘Please do not play games with me, vampire. You captured two walkers when you went out hunting. This one and her partner. You will have to bring the other one out from wherever you are keeping him.’
‘And why would I do that?’
She rolled her eyes, as if she were explaining all of this to a recalcitrant child. ‘Zombies don’t do much near fellow undead creatures like you and me.’ She nodded towards the cadaver. ‘They only react near the thing they prey upon – living humans – so if you really must insist on seeing what that will do once I reanimate it, you’d better have something around to pique its interest.’
‘You expect me to give up my dinner?’ Caliban said with mock indignation.
Helde shrugged. ‘It’s your idea to conduct this … demonstration. Besides, you assured me that you would keep your feeding to a minimum while we were here. I didn’t expect you to start stockpiling your victims. We need to maintain a low profile, Caliban. It would not do to have to leave Leroth.’
‘I take it that you have still not located this “Shield”?’
‘Oh, I’ll find it. Assuming, that is, I’m not interrupted every few minutes to perform parlour tricks for your entertainment.’
Caliban gave her a long, cold look which was met unblinkingly by the sorceress. Eventually he shrugged his shoulders and let out a long sigh. ‘Very well. I will fetch the other human.’
‘Not quite yet,’ Helde said. ‘Let’s get this one ready first.’
The sorceress’s body went rigid as she entered the trance-like state she’d told Caliban was necessary for her to perform the reanimation. Even the multitude of insects that made up her body seemed to slow their usual frenetic jostling. Her eyes were shut, but her lips moved almost imperceptibly, and the vampire could hear the slightest whisper of the long-forgotten, ancient words she uttered. It was an eerie sound, even to the vampire’s ears. At irregular intervals the sorceress’s body would suddenly spasm and jerk violently, as if a jolt of electricity had passed through it.
Caliban watched her from his throne. He was, in a way, attracted to the sorceress. He told himself that it was preposterous to think such a thing, but nevertheless, he found her alluring. He wondered if his recent behaviour – his baiting of her – had been as much a result of this attraction as his desire to bend her to his will.
There was another convulsion, this one even more violent than those before it, and Helde’s eyes snapped open, staring into the middle distance before her. She opened her mouth and issued a harsh hissing sound, like the noise of a retreating wave on a pebble beach. It went on for an impossible length of time, as if the breath were no longer the sorceress’s but was coming from some other source outside her body. At the same time a small contingent of insects detached itself from Helde, falling to the floor and scurrying off in the direction of the corpse. The insects crawled into the mouth and nostrils of the dead body, burrowing their way inside the cavities before disappearing.
Nothing happened for a while. That incessant hiss still came out of Helde’s mouth, and just as Caliban was about to say something he saw, out of the corner of his eye, the body of the dead human buck into the air. Like the spasms that had racked the sorceress, it was a sudden and violent paroxysm, making the corpse’s arms and legs fly out on all sides, leaving it face down and spreadeagled on the floor. The ghastly noise that the sorceress had been making finally came to an abrupt halt, only to be replaced by a low and terrible groaning from the creature on the floor.
The zombie raised its head and slowly pulled its arms underneath it to push itself up. Each and every movement was accompanied by a low groan. With a great effort the creature got to its knees, then feet, until it stood facing the vampire and sorceress, swaying a little on the spot as though it might topple forward at any moment.
Caliban looked from the zombie to Helde. The sorceress appeared to be exhausted, her head lolling as if she lacked the strength to even lift it.
‘Make it
do something,’ he said. He was excited to see what his new weapon, the one that would be unleashed in the first wave of the forthcoming war on the humans, was capable of.
Helde slowly lifted her eyes to meet his. She waved an arm in the direction of the door. ‘Bring the other one in,’ she said.
The male was being kept in the room next door. Caliban hissed angrily – he was used to giving orders, not taking them – but one look at Helde told him she was probably incapable of fetching anything herself.
The human was in the same position the vampire had placed him in when he had brought the pair back to the tower. Caliban had spellbound the man: a useful ability that all vampires possess to keep their prey docile and obedient.
‘Follow me,’ the vampire said.
They paused before the doors leading back into the room containing the sorceress and the revenant.
‘Look at me,’ the vampire demanded, nodding as the human raised his head.
‘In a moment you and I will walk through these doors. You will remain under my influence until they are closed behind you. As soon as they are shut, my control over you will cease except for one thing: you will not know that I, or anyone else except the woman you were with when I captured you, is in the room. Do you understand me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good.’
The vampire opened the doors and stepped inside. He walked over to the sorceress and took her by the arm, guiding her to a corner cloaked in shadows from which they could watch. Satisfied with the set-up, he turned back to fetch the human, ushering the man ahead of him and placing him a little way inside the room, facing the creature by the window. Caliban looked about him. Everything was in place, so he reached out and pushed the doors shut.
The sound of the door closing woke the human from the stupor he was in. He shook his head from side to side, as if trying to wake from a particularly disturbing dream. When he lifted his face, he gasped at the sight of his girlfriend wavering on the spot before him. What meagre light there was came in through the window at her back, casting her features into shadow and rendering it impossible for him to make out her face.
