by Steve Feasey
‘You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t a stalemate at all, Caliban. You’ve lost. Not just this battle, but the war.’
‘You haven’t thought this through, boy, you—’
‘Do NOT call me boy, vampire!’ Trey raised himself to his full height and glared back at his arch-enemy. ‘I am a son of Theiss. A true-blood lycanthrope. Remember that!’
Caliban chuckled and shook his head. ‘A son of Theiss? Like your father, you mean?’ The cruel smile dropped from the vampire’s face and he glared up at the teenager. ‘Because we all know what happened to him, don’t we? I had him beheaded! That’s what I think of your lycanthrope ancestry! Now … BOY, I am—’
‘You’re the one who hasn’t thought this through, vampire. You think you hold the ace card, don’t you? You think I can’t put a stop to this.’
Caliban noticed the strange look on the teenager’s face. There was something about that look that unsettled him. The Laporte boy showed no signs of fear and seemed in no doubt about how this would all turn out. He watched as the youngster swivelled round and looked over his shoulder at the sun, which had started to set. When he turned back, there was a hideous smile on his face.
‘I could have ended all of this upstairs. But I wanted to face you. To see the look in your eyes when you realized that the legend was to be fulfilled. I wanted to see the murderer of my parents die.’ The boy continued to stare unflinchingly at the vampire. ‘I’ll give you one more chance to let him go.’
‘You can go to hell.’
‘No. But you will. Right now.’
Trey Changed. The great werewolf roared and thrust his hand through the swarm of insects that still made up the sorceress’s depleted body, closing his fingers around the ancient heart at the centre. He pulled the still beating thing free, held it before the vampire for a moment, and crushed it.
Caliban watched the werewolf’s huge hand close around the organ, and cried out when he saw the fine grey dust pouring from between the fingers. He looked up at the Shield which blinked once, like a light bulb about to blow, before it disappeared permanently.
The vampire screamed as the sun’s rays hit him. His skin blistered; huge great boiling sores covered his face and hands, blackening and bursting almost as soon as they formed. Within seconds his skin was the colour of ash and a foul-smelling smoke seethed off him. He looked down at his brother, and his agonized screams were mixed with howls of rage when he saw that his sibling was not suffering the same terrible death. He staggered to his feet and tried to run towards the werewolf, making one last effort to kill the lycanthrope child. The vampire had taken no more than two steps when his body became a thing of fire. His eyeballs exploded in their sockets, and he screamed anew, a long belch of flame coming from his mouth as he did so. He dropped to his knees, one clawed hand still reaching out towards the lycanthrope as if, even now, he was intent on doing him some harm. The vampire pitched forward, crashing face first into the road. Flames still leaped from what was left of him – now little more than blackened bones – until these too were reduced to crumbling debris and finally dust.
Trey watched as the murderer of his parents was stirred by the breeze that blew up the London road now that the Shield was gone, and carried away to oblivion.
He walked over to the figure of Lucien Charron, bent down and picked him up, before turning and walking back into the dark tower with the vampire in his arms.
EPILOGUE
Vampires recover quickly. Within a couple of days Lucien was back to his old self, organizing everyone about him and leading the clean-up operation. And some clean-up operation it was. A military cordon was set up round that area of London – families and business were moved out of houses and premises. The few zombies that had managed to escape the Maug demon before the Shield went down were rounded up. The Prime Minister, with whom Lucien had been in contact as soon as he could hold a phone to his head again, was pulling strings on a monumental scale, working round the clock with a host of agencies to try and keep a lid on what had really happened outside the football ground on that fateful weekend. When she wasn’t talking to senior officials, members of her cabinet or other world leaders, she was talking to the vampire Lucien Charron.
The number of dead was terrible. Families were contacted and informed that their loved ones had been killed in a terrorist attack. It was no lie – terror was at the very heart of what had happened that day, and now it was up to the powers that be to make sure that the terror of the Netherworld did not spread to every living person on the planet. The PM went on television, and told millions of viewers around the world who had seen news coverage of the event and footage of that impenetrable dome how the government had utilized a new type of weapon, known as an Energy Shield, to keep the effects of the attack, ‘… which was thought to be chemical in nature,’ from spreading outside its cordon.
She went on to explain how … ‘A small amount of the chemical attack agent escaped before we were able to contain it completely, and we believe this is responsible for the hallucinations of terrifying creatures that a number of people seemed to have experienced.
‘Their use of high explosives in this has made it extremely difficult for us to ascertain exactly who is responsible for this outrage, but be assured that we will find out, and that the appropriate action will be taken.’ She looked straight into the camera and delivered her speech, word for word, as she’d agreed to. The world watched on in appalled horror. At one point she could be seen glancing to one side of the camera, as if looking for affirmation of something or another. Out of camera shot, and unseen by the viewers, stood her advisor and scriptwriter, Lucien Charron. Next to him were his daughter and his ward, Trey Laporte.
Before the newsflash had been made the vampire and the Prime Minister had held an emergency video conference with world leaders from principal countries around the globe, explaining the truth of the situation. Most, if not all of them, already knew Lucien and they listened to what he said with interest. They reasoned that the global panic that would arise if the world’s population discovered the truth – that they were, and had been for millennia, under attack from a Netherworld full of demons and creatures intent on their destruction and enslavement – was simply too much of a risk. So they’d cooked up this new story.
It was the conspiracy story to end them all, and everyone involved knew that it would take a united effort for it to work. International disputes and even conflicts were momentarily put to one side as governments, some of which had not spoken to each other in decades, promised their unified help. The alternative was too terrible to consider – a world consumed with fear and panic, mass suicides, riots and mayhem.
The task consumed Lucien. He lived in private jets, flying from country to country, talking to world leaders and officials to make sure that the truth was concealed at all costs.
Tom survived that terrible day too. He’d sat at the bottom of the tower, holding the crossbow in one hand and summoning up the courage to end it all and avoid becoming an undead freak. He’d finally made up his mind that if he didn’t do it, it would be too late. He turned the weapon on himself and was about to pull the trigger when unbeknownst to him Trey ripped the sorceress’s heart from her insect body and crushed it in his hand.
The effect was immediate. The agonizing pain that had invaded his tissue and bone and blood was gone in an instant. Gone. No slow, long-drawn-out recovery. Just like that, it was gone. He gasped in relief, got to his feet and looked about him in amazement as if the source of his salvation might be to hand. Then he realized the truth – that Alexa and Trey had succeeded in their mission to stop the sorceress.
He ran over to the staircase and began to climb it, hurrying as fast as his legs would carry him to the top of the tower to try and discover what the cost of his friends’ triumph might have been.
Alexa was lying on the floor unconscious when Tom entered the vampire’s rooms at the top of the tower. Her last act of sorcery that transported Trey out on to the
streets below had proved too much for her, and she’d collapsed with the effort it had taken.
The Irishman rushed over to her and held two fingers to her neck, feeling for a pulse. It was weak, but steady. He looked about for Trey, frowning when he couldn’t see him. He called out for the teenager, guessing that he must be in one of the other rooms that led off this one. The sound of his voice stirred the young girl he held in his arms.
Alexa looked up at him, the hint of a smile touching the edges of her mouth. ‘You look a lot better than the last time I saw you,’ she said in a small voice.
‘And you look one hell of a lot worse. Where’s Trey?’
‘He took Helde. Down there.’ She gestured with her eyes towards the window and started to get to her feet in panic.
‘I don’t think you should be getting up right now. You should—’
At that moment the huge figure of the lycanthrope filled the doorway, her father’s bloody body draped across Trey’s outstretched arms. She was rooted to the spot, unable to talk or move. She watched as the werewolf gently placed the unmoving body on a chair. Then Trey transformed into his human form, and stared back at her.
‘He’s alive,’he said.
She rushed to the teenager and threw her arms about his neck, kissing him as the tears ran down her cheeks.
There was a small cough behind her, and she turned to see her father, his eyes open, beckoning her towards him. She leaned down to hear him, grasping his hand.
‘We need to move the tower. We need to get Leroth out of here, and quickly. Your mother’s rooms are next to these. You must go there and find the information on how to translocate the tower. Go.’
An hour later, the black tower disappeared from the Fulham Road, leaving absolutely no trace. Moments later it reappeared for no more than ten seconds in St James’s Park, opposite Downing Street, stopping just long enough for a wounded vampire, leaning heavily on his Irish friend, to step out on to the grass where they were met by members of the intelligence services who escorted them across the road and through the security gates which led to the Prime Minister’s place of work.
When the tower disappeared again it went to a place not in the human realm – a place where it would stay until its new owner could work out what to do with it.
Trey walked into the offices on the first floor of the building in Docklands, looking about him at the usual hustle and bustle of the place. Lucien had left Alexa, under Tom’s tutelage, to run things while the vampire dealt with a number of matters in the Netherworld. He’d been gone for three weeks now. Trey didn’t know exactly how long that was in Netherworld time, but he guessed it must be close to a year. Clearly the dismantling of Caliban’s empire in the demon realm was taking a great deal of effort. Lucien was far from alone in his mission – the demon lords had all joined him, and agreed to reinstate the peace between the realms that had existed for hundreds of years before the evil vampire had risen to dominance. The demon aristocracy was keen to reacquire the power it had held for so long -power that had been wrenched away from them by Caliban in his quest to rule, and Lucien was working hard to help them realize this aim, all too aware that it was their best chance to reinstate the status quo between the realms. The upshot of this was that a number of nasty nether-creatures who had sided with the vampire had been popping up in the human realm, desperate to escape before it was too late. Alexa, Trey, Tom and the rest of the team in the human realm had been working hard to try and keep a lid on things, hunting these creatures down and returning them for trial. Tom came out of the door that led to the armoury on the far side of the office. He was carrying a Mossberg 590A1 shotgun in one hand while holstering a 9mm Glock in the harness around his shoulders. He nodded in Trey’s direction and rolled his eyes. ‘No rest for the wicked!’ he called out. He offered the teenager a salute, and carried on walking towards the elevator.
Trey cast his eyes about, stopping and smiling when he saw Alexa remonstrating with a middle-aged man who, despite his outward appearance, Trey knew to be a terrifying-looking demon with claws and teeth that grew in proportion to how threatened it felt. He almost wished he could Change to see just how long his teeth had become as a result of the tongue-lashing he was getting from the boss’s daughter right now. He walked over to them.
‘… so if it’s not too much to ask, I’d like you to do it again. And this time—’
‘Hi, Lex,’ Trey said, interrupting. ‘Hi, Howard. I wonder if you could give us a few minutes?’
‘With pleasure!’ the demon said, casting him a grateful look and hurrying back to his desk.
‘What is it?’ Alexa said, turning towards him, her face displaying her annoyance.
Trey put his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. ‘It’s lunchtime.’
‘I don’t have time for lunch, Trey. There’s been another portal breach and—’
‘I wasn’t asking you, Lex. I was telling you. It’s lunchtime. I’ve phoned Claudia at the cafe on the corner and asked her to reserve us some of her special lasagne. I’ve told her to have coffees ready and that we’d be there in five minutes.’ He looked at the people about him. ‘This lot are more than capable of dealing with a portal breach. If it gets out of hand they can contact us on the mobile, and we can come back.’
She looked into his eyes and he watched her expression soften a little.
‘You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?’
‘Lucien made me promise to look out for you while he was away. That’s what I’m doing. Besides, there are always going to be nether-creatures coming through to this realm from their own. We’ll stop as many as we can, and deal with those that we can’t. That’s what we do.’
She nodded at him then suddenly leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.
‘Special lasagne, you say?’
‘And coffee.’
‘OK, let’s go.’
Alexa couldn’t resist calling out some last-minute instructions to members of the team as they made their way to the elevator. They stepped inside and Trey pressed the button for the ground floor.
‘I might need you to go to Oxford,’ she said as the doors closed. ‘There’s a Shadow Demon on the loose up there.’
Trey smiled and nodded. Til look into it after lunch.’
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I found writing the last book in the Changeling series a difficult thing to do. And I wouldn’t have been able to do it without the help, encouragement and support of some fabulous people along the way.
I’d especially like to express thanks to:
Ruth Alltimes, my new editor extraordinaire, who assuaged all my fears and proved to be every bit as wonderful as people said she would. Thank you for all your hard work and insightful suggestions. I really look forward to working with you on our next project.
My agent, Catherine Pellegrino at Rogers, Coleridge and White, for her support and good advice.
The industrious team at Macmillan who do all the behind-the-scenes stuff that makes my books possible. In particular I’d like to mention my publicist and friend Dom Kingston. Thank you for everything you’ve done on my behalf. I will miss you.
I’d like to thank my fans for their emails and tweets and blogs – you are a source of inspiration and joy that keeps me going when the ‘worry worm’ visits.
Finally I’d like to thank Zoe, Hope and Kyran for all their love. Without it I would not be able to do what I do.
Steve Feasey lives with his family in Hertfordshire. He once trained as a spy for a television programme. He now coaches junior rugby and likes to win! He’s passionate about reading and spends a lot of time visiting schools to talk about the Changeling series, the best horror movies ever, his favourite books and his next series, which will launch in 2012. You can find him on both Twitter and Facebook.
The Changeling series by Steve Feasey
Changeling
Changeling: Dark Moon
Changeling: Blood Wolf
Changeling: Demon Games
Changeling: Zombie Dawn
First published 2011 by Macmillan Children’s Books
This electronic edition published 2011 by Macmillan Children’s Books
a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
Basingstoke and Oxford
Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.com
ISBN 978-1-4472-0308-7 EPUB
Copyright © Steve Feasey 2011
The right of Steve Feasey to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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