“We’ll see,” Danny said. “I’m torn between giving you your freedom, to fight as you will, staying with you every step of the way, and doing my duty to Him. Perhaps you are my duty,” he mumbled.
“I don’t suppose you could do something for me about that smell? I mean, I still want it there to keep the vamps away, I just don’t want it getting up my nostrils.”
He laughed. “I’ll think about it and get back to you.”
“Can we get some snags from the apartment for a barbecue at the ranch? I want to practise my disposal technique.” I giggled like a school girl. It sounded like a normal conversation. No one would ever know what we were talking about.
Danny was deep in thought and I waved my hand in front of his face.
“Earth to Danny, earth to Danny,” I said.
He looked up and in a flash of inspiration asked, “Helena, do you still have my feather?”
“Yes.”
I reached my hand under my top and around to my back. When I pulled my hand out the feather was in it. From where Danny was sitting he wouldn’t have been able to see where I extracted it from.
“Where exactly was that?” he asked.
“Tucked in the back of my bra,” I replied, laughing.
The look of confusion on his face made me giggle again. I was the little schoolgirl with her first crush, keeping a lock of her beloved’s hair. Okay, so I didn’t have a lock of my beloved’s hair — I had his feather instead. Same same.
“And why was it there?”
“It’s my good luck charm.” I held it by the quill and twirled it around in my fingers, smiling. “It symbolises my reason for staying alive.”
Danny plucked it out of my hand, ruffled the vanes and blew on it, before handing it back, together with a small leather thong. I thought he’d changed it to crystal, like the daisy chains, but it appeared no different.
“Tie that around your right arm and wear it always when you’re out in the forest.”
I was touched by the gesture. That he wanted me to wear it openly, but thought it odd that nothing happened when he blew on it.
“Um, I can’t tie it on with one hand. How about making it elasticised or with straps like the sheath?”
Danny tied it for me. “Fine, when we get back I’ll change it for you. Promise me you’ll always wear it.”
I never made a real promise. Real promises were too hard to keep — they were made to be broken. I couldn’t make that promise — couldn’t say that word.
“If it’s that important to you, I’ll keep it with the knife so I don’t forget.”
“Good,” he said, not pushing any further for the words I didn’t want to say.
I took Danny’s hand and transported us about fifty metres away from the shelter. It was better to be cautious until I’d mastered this mode of transportation.
“What do you see when I transport us?” I whispered.
“A bright white flash. It’s a refreshing change from the lights,” he whispered back. “Why so far away?”
“Because I need to build up my confidence. I admit it,” though it grated to do so, “that fall gave me a bit of a scare.”
“Don’t worry,” he squeezed my hand reassuringly, “even angels get it wrong occasionally.”
“I doubt that,” I mumbled. “You’re far too perfect.”
I sniffed the air. There were a number of scents here, all fresh and strong. The vamps were here all right.
“Okay, I’m going to try a short trip, into the apartment and then back to the ranch. Count to five and meet me there.”
Danny rubbed my arm encouragingly.
“Wish me luck,” I said.
“You don’t need it,” he reminded me. “You’ve got your lucky charm.”
“See ya!” I said, then disappeared.
My eyes had no trouble adjusting to the dim light in the apartment — the shelter the vampires had fashioned by weaving the branches of the densely packed trees to form exactly that — a shelter. I made a quick assessment of the numbers and positions of the vamps and catalogued those in the group whom I recognised. I dashed forward and grabbed one I didn’t know from behind.
“Hi, Drake! Bye, Drake!” I called out, and was gone.
The vampire kicked and struggled. He called me every name imaginable — nothing I hadn’t heard before. I had him in a headlock and jerked back the arm that was around his neck to give him something to think about.
“If I had fifty cents I’d give it to you. Then you could call someone who cares,” I said through gritted teeth.
These vampires were beginning to get on my nerves. Couldn’t they think of something original to say, like I knew your mother, she was good for a bit. Something that would really get me fired up.
Danny stood in the distance leaning against a tree.
“How’s the smell?” he yelled out.
Until he’d mentioned it, I hadn’t noticed that the horrible stink wasn’t as bad as it had been earlier in the day. I took a deep breath through my nose, held for a count of five, then let it out again.
“Not too bad actually. Sort of like dirty socks now. Quite bearable. What did you do?”
Danny tapped the side of his nose with a finger, indicating it was his little secret. I’d bet whatever money I had back at the cottage it had something to do with the feather.
“It stinks you fuckin’ demented bitch,” the vampire snarled, his voice rising an octave. “You’ve had your nose too far up that angel’s arse to know any better.”
I jerked back my arm again. The sound of the vertebrae in his neck complained — by way of a cracking sound — at the amount of pressure being placed on them.
“That’s very rude,” I hissed through my teeth. “You should apologise.”
He spat in Danny’s direction — a weak effort that only landed a few metres away from us. I knew that if he’d been facing me he would have spat at me instead. I was worse than an angel because I fed on vampires. It didn’t worry me, being spat at. I’d been spat at before, but to spit at an angel — my angel — that was unforgivable. I grabbed his arm and yanked it back, dislocating his shoulder.
I whispered in his ear, low and menacing, “Show some respect you piece of shit.”
“Stop playing with your food,” Danny yelled out. “You’ll want to get a few more kills in before nightfall.”
“Chicken shit angel’s scared of the night,” the vampire sneered, his eyes watering from the pain I was causing him.
He had guts, I had to give him that. He knew he was going to die, yet here he was baiting us. He couldn’t fight, but he could still give us a good tongue-lashing. I kind of admired his tenacity.
Danny strode over to the vampire and looked him in the eye. He smiled, his eyes glinting wickedly in the light.
“Actually I have other sporting activities reserved for the night.”
Is he telling this vamp what I think he is? Was gloating a sin? I couldn’t remember. I was kind of flattered Danny was telling the vampire his sport with me was better than any other night time activity.
“Fuckin’ sick freaks,” the vampire yelled, his voice high from the crushing pressure my arm was placing on his neck.
He spat again. This time it reached its target. Danny wiped vampire spittle away from his face.
I totally lost it, in the strangest, calmest way. It was as if I could see what I was going to do ahead of time, and followed where it was taking me. I released the vamp, my face an unreadable mask. Danny stepped back, not knowing what I had planned. I unsheathed the knife before the vampire had time to react. My free hand sought a handful of hair, pulling his head back. The blade sliced through layers of flesh and bone, to decapitate him in one fluid motion. It reminded me of cutting into soft butter — little or no resistance.
It sang to me — the blade. I closed my eyes and rejoiced in the song, blocking out everything around me. Its song was calm and serene, alive and at peace, all at the same time.
“He
lena,” Danny called out.
His voice pulled me out of my reverie. I opened my eyes. Danny had already disposed of the body and head. How long had I been listening to the song?
“Did you hear the blade sing again?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “It’s so beautiful. I imagine that's what a choir of angels sounds like.”
“I can’t hear it,” Danny replied, shaking his head. “That’s three things you’ve been able to experience — the song, the smell of this place and the sex of that vampire, purely from his scent — that I can’t. What else will you be able to do that I can’t?” he sounded exasperated.
“At least from your latest memories I was able to hear what you heard, the first time you used the blade — on the vampire in the tree. It’s not quite a choir of angels, though it’s intriguing nonetheless.”
I clutched his arm. “What else did you see, from my memories?”
I was curious if he’d seen the memories that were only now coming back to the surface — the missing years of my childhood. I thought I saw hesitation in his eyes, of how much he should reveal he knew.
His voice was sad, with an angry edge, when he spoke. “I saw why fourteen was significant to you, what you’d been through up to that age, and what you went through after it.”
I sat down cross-legged on the ground and idly picked up a handful of ash, allowing it to sift through my fingers. I did this again and again, watching the ash being blown away in the light breeze.
“I remember meeting the preacher when I was sixteen. I didn’t come to his full attention until I was eighteen. The two years in-between — before I became his number one girl — weren’t pleasant, but I survived. I had to.”
Danny crouched down in front of me. He brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen over my eyes.
“Don’t torture yourself over your past.”
I seized his shirt and pulled him to me, resulting in both of us falling backwards and ashes flying up around us like a cloud of dust. The memories weren’t pleasant, but the blade’s song was still fresh in my mind. It made me feel alive. The only other thing that had the same effect of making me feel like I was living, for the first time in my life, was Danny.
Danny pinned my arms to the ground, above my head and gave me a quick peck on the lips — not the passionate lingering kiss I’d been hoping for.
“As much as I would like to take time out, you need to learn control, and how to focus. There’s a time and place for everything. On the ashes of a dead vampire is not the place.”
It was like being slapped in the face. I was so sure of myself, of my charms, that to get a knock-back was something foreign to me. It was always the other way around, me saying no and them saying yes.
I felt tears — tears I didn’t want to shed — prick the corners of my eyes. My ego — who would have thought it was so frail — had been bruised.
Ah, shit! I thought. This is no time to get all emotional now. It’s only sex.
Danny saw the teardrops forming in my eyes. He brushed them away with his lips. I was ashamed by the stupid pointless tears, and more came, unbidden. I clung to him, crying, he not knowing what to do to make it stop. When he tried to kiss my tears again I tilted my head so our lips met. This time he offered no resistance.
Afterwards — covered in perspiration, ash and dirt — Danny said, “I need to bathe. No, that’s not quite right. I don’t really need to, but I feel like I have to. I’m going to have to scrub off ten layers of skin to get rid of this ash.”
“For what it’s worth, Danny,” I pouted, feeling guilty, “I’m sorry.”
“What’s there to be sorry for?”
“I’m not used to being told no when it comes to sex. It’s normally the other way around.”
“You’re that good at it, aren’t you, that something as simple as the word no — and not because I didn’t want you — is something you can’t fathom someone saying?”
I hoped he was referring to my being good at sex and not my ability to make him feel bad enough that he relented to my demands.
“Well, yeah. It seems even I have a fragile ego. I thought it was only men whose egos could be bruised.”
I needed to lighten the moment, make it seem like no big deal after all.
“As for being good at it, for someone who was a virgin not that long ago, you’re not so bad yourself.”
He kissed my forehead and disappeared, leaving me to wonder if I’d been right or wrong in pursuing my desires. I brushed off as much ash as I could and dressed quickly. The sun was starting to get low in the sky. I’d have time for a few more quick trips before I’d need to head back to the cottage, or before Danny came back looking for me.
I’d memorised the interior of the apartment. Two visits there were enough for me to firmly fix it in my mind. Okay, how should I approach this? I’d probably need to appear in different parts of the apartment each time I went there, to keep them on their toes. There was a small natural niche in the back right corner, where Drake liked to stand when he was addressing the others. Maybe I’d get lucky — take out the leader and hopefully the disorganised army would collapse.
I focused on the niche and the bright light flashed before my eyes — it was a good thing it didn’t leave me temporarily blinded. I jumped the nearest vamp — it wasn’t Drake — and transported him back to the ranch. I drained him quickly, using both hands and my mouth, and without stopping to dispose of the body returned to the shelter, just inside the entrance.
I heard a shout of alarm and ran towards the gathered vampires, grasping the arm of one without stopping and returned to the ranch. The vampire kicked and screamed. She thrashed around even more when she saw the body on the ground and the ash of my earlier kill beneath it.
“Say goodnight,” I said with a laugh.
She tried to twist in my grip when my hand found the skin of her wrist and my lips found her throat. Now it was only a matter of time.
I wanted to up the body count. Have to work faster, I thought. Have to make them scared.
I let her body fall to the ground when the last drop was drained — giddy and light headed from the rush — and headed back for more.
What would happen if I landed on one? I thought. Who cares? Why should it matter? Well, you might lose you footing and fall. I’ll just have to get out of there quickly then!
They were gathered around the side walls, keeping the entrance and the back wall free. As soon as they saw me they charged. Without thinking I crouched down on the floor, making myself as small as possible. The first wave of attack collided and fell on top of me. I reached back with a hand and connected with a leg. Flash! We were gone.
“Fuck, but you’re fast!” the vampire said in admiration of my skill.
He didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned for his safety.
“How do you do that? And what is that godawful smell?”
“No struggling, no resisting?” I asked, quite astonished with his reaction to being abducted. “Just a lot of questions?”
Mind you, I was sitting on his back with my hand still clutching his leg, so it wasn’t exactly easy for him to resist. A bit of bucking perhaps, but not much else.
“Drake is keen to catch you,” he said.
“I already knew that. If you want to impress me, tell me something I don’t know.”
“He’d like you to swap sides. You’d be a formidable weapon in his army.”
“His army!” I laughed mockingly, “You call that ragtag bunch of vampire misfits an army? Not interested.”
“He has someone with him that might make you change your mind.”
“And who might that be?” I asked.
The only person of interest to me was Danny, and Drake didn’t have him.
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
I was curious who it could be. Maybe he was offering up the preacher as a sacrifice, if I would make the switch. Shae would have told him about the preacher, and how he used women. Drake w
ould’ve wanted to find out everything he could about me, and Shae was as good a source — if somewhat vexed and biased — as any.
“What if I told you the information may save your life, if I thought it was useful — for now at least?”
“If I talk, Drake will hunt me down and kill me. If I don’t talk, you’ll kill me. Better to get it over with now, hey?”
Why would he give up without a fight?
“For an immortal, you don’t place much value on your life.”
“I used to gamble, when I was human. One too many bets and here I am. The odds changed as soon as you set foot in the forest. I don’t want to gamble on being given a quick death by Drake if I talk. It’s likely to be a drawn-out and painful affair. I’d rather take my chances with you.”
“So that’s it?” I asked. “You’re just giving up?”
“Make it quick,” he pleaded.
A quick death — how long did it take to decapitate a vampire? I hadn’t paid much attention to how much time passed when I used the knife. I was too enthralled by the singing of the blade. It had to be quicker than draining a vampire dry. So be it, a quick death.
I let go of his leg, placed my knee in the small of his back and unsheathed the knife. My free hand was already entwined in his hair, pulling back his head. It was over before he’d had the chance to ask how long it would take. I fell backwards, the force with which I’d completed the task causing me to overbalance when his head separated from his body. The momentum caused the head to be released from my hand like a poorly thrown bowling ball. It landed on the ground with a thud and rolled over a few times before coming to a stop, the dead eyes staring up at the sky.
The blade was still singing, and I took the time to enjoy the moment before it would end. The song was slightly different, but engaging all the same. As the final notes died down I sheathed it and looked from the head to the body, and back to the head again.
I wonder what would happen if I put his head back on his shoulders? I thought.
Angel's Kiss Page 19
