‘You have two hunters now,’ I shifted awkwardly, ‘I have your back.’
Da nodded, but it was Rebel’s brief smile that straightened my shoulders.
Fight mode.
‘Too many of the gits to go out sword waving,’ Rebel jerked his head towards the door. ‘This is different; they’re fanatics.’
‘Then we build up the house’s protection.’ Ma tugged Rebel after her towards Evie, before smoothing down Evie’s cheek. Evie blinked, as if rising from sleep. ‘You too,’ she threw over her shoulder at me.
I jolted, surprised at the flush of warmth. Then I gave a crisp nod.
Together, we rushed into the kitchen, throwing down herbs from the low beams at Ma’s orders, before dragging out a huge ceramic pestle and mortar from the ink-black cabinet.
Who knew it took a vampire siege to bring together a dysfunctional family of witches, angels and…whatever supernatural hybrid I was?
The golden chandelier warmed us against the night. The low flames in the inglenook fireplace sparked and stung my eyes with smoke.
Snip, snip, snip…
In the haze of the night-time kitchen, as Ma mixed the spell — and hell, I still struggled to accept magic was real — the world hazed.
Until Ma said, gazing intently at the herbs and never raising her head, ‘The House of Rose, Wolf, and Fox has stood since humans burnt our kind on bonfires. It has life, the same as us. And it would die to protect us. Why are the nightmares pulling down our home?’
Ma sounded like a kid, asking why her new daddy crept into her room at night.
Rebel snatched the long carving knife so quickly from the marble counter it was a nothing but a gleam of silver and then crimson as he slashed across his palm.
Drip, drip, drip…
Rebel’s blood bled into the protection spell mix like it was just another herb: the red milk that bound it together.
When the scent hit me, sugary and intoxicating, I remembered the tangy sweetness on my own tongue. I hungered to sink in my blunt teeth again…
‘Angel blood,’ Rebel shook off the last drops, before licking the gash clean like a cat, ‘fierce powerful.’ Rebel dropped the knife, with a rueful smile. ‘Not like angel kisses.’
Slash — a flash of silver, scream of red, and my palm sacrificial bled over the potion. I avoided Rebel’s wide gaze: there was something too close to surprised pride there.
The one thing I’d pretended not to want was shining from Rebel just when we were about to die.
Because of me.
‘Non-designer angel blood will still boost the spell, yeah?’ I hunched my shoulders, shaking my hand and splattering scarlet across the oak floor.
‘Bandage her wound,’ Da said softly.
A kitchen towel was whipped off the range and tied carefully around my palm…by Evie.
I lifted an eyebrow, but she only smirked. Then she edged to the bowl of blood and herbs; she plucked a petal from her rose necklace and ground it into the mix.
Ma stroked Evie’s hair, before untying her wolf pendant. She submerged it into the sticky paste, at the same time as Da ripped the cord around his neck and dashed in the already blood tipped fox brush. Then Ma stuck her hand into the oozing potion and smacked the rose, wolf, and fox picture behind the range, branding it with a bloody hand print.
Again, and again, Ma marked the painting, until it was covered with fingers and palms, like crimson birds with their insides exploded out, and nothing was left of the rose, wolf, or fox.
The house had been extinguished.
Exhausted, Ma fell back, and Rebel caught her.
At last, the family drew together, kissing each other gently on the lips.
Hell, what a time to shag… Except, then I realised it was a goodbye.
I swallowed. The family’s display was too intimate. Personal. And why did it shank so deep that I had no one to kiss me?
Wiping the back of my hand across my eyes, I stumbled out of the kitchen, pushing into the first room on the wood-panelled hallway.
I reached to switch on the light, blinking as a small library with rows of faded books to the stone ceiling blossomed out of the dark. A calm corner of leather armchairs and chocolate sofa, hushed by swathes of gold curtains.
I could imagine Da, hands smartly behind his back, striding around his private retreat. A god in his own household.
I straightened my shoulders and set my jaw.
Why did it matter if I was alone, when I was going to die tonight?
I kicked closed the door. At the bang, two narrow heads peeked up over the back of the sofa.
I grinned. ‘This is where you’ve been hiding?’ Rebel had accused me of taking the Blood Familiars as slaves, but the foxes had wandered around the Estate as they’d like, since the day I’d freed them. I’d seen barely more than a flash of red, except when they’d whined and begged for treats. ‘Sitting on the furniture? Careful, you don’t want to be chained in a kennel, bitches.’ I sighed, throwing myself down between the Blood Familiars’ furry bodies and allowing Blaze to lay his black paws possessively across my lap.
‘Now hold on, you wouldn’t put us in a kennel? And we’re no bitches.’ Spark scowled at me, aggrieved.
The fox’s lips hadn’t moved but a soft Scottish voice had lit up my mind, just like J’s did.
Spark’s expressive eyes were watching mine.
Auditory hallucinations…? But I wasn’t in a migraine. A spell? But I hadn’t drunk anything.
Then Spark yipped, as Blaze leapt across my knee in a heavy tangle of rusty-red flanks and whippy tail. Blaze pinned his smaller brother underneath him with his forelegs.
Spark grinned in submission, his white throat exposed.
‘I told you not to speak to her, but you wouldn’t listen. So, now she can hear us, you numptie, and my teeth are taking a trip to your backside.’ Blaze: bolder, less geeky than his brother, and fuming…
I had the sudden instinct to teach one brother how to kick the bullies’ arses, and the other how to read poetry.
Is that what it’s like for parents?
I snatched Blaze by the neck before he could bite down. ‘Not happening, bro. And if you don’t like bitches, Spark, how about I call you foxies instead?’
‘Nay, I don’t think—’
‘So, Blaze, how come I have fox radio playing in my head?’
Blaze settled back on his haunches with a snarl. ‘Telepathy. You wouldn’t be telling the witches? Because they’ll—’
‘Hurt us, hurt us, hurt us.’ Spark nuzzled against my hand, and I stroked his ears, until he calmed.
‘Our secret,’ I murmured, wriggling down on the sofa.
‘Told you,’ Spark simpered at his brother, ‘we can trust our new Keeper.’
I sat up, shoving away Spark’s head. ‘Rewind, foxies. Despite Rebel’s bondage themed dates, I’m not into kinky slave and mistress—’
‘You saved us from Da,’ Blaze’s amber eyes shone, ‘and you can’t know what that means. We didn’t choose to be Blood Familiars, but you made a choice to be our Keeper when you claimed us. We’ll always serve you. We’re yours.’
Yours…
The thrill of Blaze’s words wound deeper than the violet, to the river of black.
‘Yeah, you’re mine,’ I dug my fingers into the familiars’ thick fur.
I tightened my hold; Spark whimpered.
My nails were digging into the foxes’ necks. I quickly let go, with a grimace. Then I stroked over their backs in apology. ‘I always wanted a dog.’
I laughed at Blaze’s snarl. But then I shivered.
I was being watched.
I pushed myself up, sidling to the high arched windows. Twitching the curtains wider apart, I peered out and then gasped.
An army of vampires lined the drive in dark ranks. Silent and watchful beneath the stripped trees. Their black eyes sparked, like fallen stars. Too far from the house to be caught in its light, they were nothing but shadows.
/> Except for their leader.
The fanatic’s top boy smiled. He strolled closer towards the house, his hands in the pockets of his navy cargo trousers.
With a sweep of brunet hair and brooding mutton chops, the handsome bastard lounged in a dreamy, sky-blue velvet coat, as if he was a movie star. When his gaze locked with mine — searching and malicious — his plump lips pouted into a kiss.
Then he waved.
I jumped at a sudden scrambling, thudding sound, like mutant rats in the attic. The vampires must’ve sneaked around the back of the house and were now climbing up, onto the roof.
But what were they waiting for?
As soon as the sun rose on Christmas day, they were in for a splitting headache. Rebel had told me enough in my sessions: vampires could only suffer small doses of sunlight without the mother of all migraines. It explained my migraines in my feverish ‘second puberty’. Maybe Rebel’s blood was the reason my symptoms had eased.
So, what was the vampires’ Big Plan? Had Ma’s protection spell worked?
Then I smelled the sickly stink of gasoline.
‘Rebel!’ I backed away from the window, cracking my shoulder against the wall of books. I winced as hard leather spines dug into my shoulders.
The Blood Familiars leapt off the sofa, winding around me, their tails aloft.
Rebel skidded into the room, the Deadmans close behind him. Their faces were drawn and their hair tangled; I’d forgotten it was the middle of the night and they were up because of me.
About to be burnt alive…and hadn’t I threatened to do that to Rebel?
I wanted to hurl. Instead, I nodded out of the window at the tall figure of the perfectly styled fanatic.
Rebel stomped to peek out but then stared back helplessly at Da. ‘It’s Eden himself.’
‘We always knew the risks.’ Da pulled at his cuffs, yet I understood how much the simple gesture was hiding. ‘Eden, the deluded and damned boy, is one such risk.’
Rebel sniffed, before stiffening. ‘Can the spell hold off fire?’
‘The house is wooden,’ Ma’s mouth twisted, like a teenager explaining something to her thick parents, ‘it’ll burn. No spell can change the nature of fire.’
‘We’re screwed.’ When the others turned to gawk at me, I shrugged. ‘Just keeping it real.’
‘The iron cellar.’ Evie snatched Rebel by the hand, dragging him to the door. ‘Lucky boys and girls that we are, it already has extra protection inbuilt around the stone, for the fun toys stored inside. The fire may devour, but we’ll be hidden cool enough beneath.’
‘Monster, monster,’ the singsong voice caught me, trapping me before I could follow Rebel to the door.
I shuddered.
‘Eden.’ Rebel stormed to the window, ripping back the curtain.
Two sparkling black eyes in an ashen face watched us from just outside the glass.
When I squealed, Eden laughed. He leant his forehead against the window; his breath steamed the glass. ‘Come and play.’ He considered Rebel, who tilted up his chin to meet his gaze. ‘Oh, and the lost angel. Let me guide him to purity.’
‘Let me guide my boot to your balls.’ A wave of heat and orange flames was reflected in the glass from the other side of the mansion. The Great Hall, with its rose quartz London, was burning down. A city in flames… Still Eden didn’t move back. ‘Do one.’
Eden’s smile widened; his canines curved to fangs. ‘The angels so love their captors, they fight against their own freedom. Yet I’m fair, so let me extend an offer.’ Then he sang, ‘Angel and monster, come out to me, then I won’t roast, the witches for tea.’
Eden tipped an imaginary hat to me, before disappearing in a blue velvet swirl back to his army.
Rebel was breathing hard. Then he dropped to his knees before Da. ‘I’ll go out to him. I’ll give myself up—’
‘Who’s in charge, Zach?’
Rebel blinked. ‘You are, Da.’
‘So, who decides who protects whom? And whether your life is to be thrown away, after we’ve spent ours saving, waiting for, and loving you?’
When Rebel didn’t reply, Da shook him.
‘You do,’ Rebel replied quietly. ‘But I can’t lose my family. Not again. Please—’
‘I believe Evie suggested the cellar,’ Ma announced like it was a ball invitation, but I didn’t miss how her hand shook as she lifted Rebel back to his feet.
Eden had called to me. Rebel could spin it anyway he wanted, ancient war or not: Eden was hunting me.
I trailed after Rebel, with the fox brothers at my heels, following him and his family down the stone steps into the musty cellar.
Bang — Rebel slammed shut the iron cellar door.
Clang — the lock slid into place.
I hadn’t felt claustrophobic before but I did now; I quivered, swaying with dizziness.
Beads of sweat dripped off Rebel’s forehead. It was heating up even here. The house above groaned and shook, whilst it burned.
The house was dying.
A screaming crash, shocking shudder, and shrieking smash.
We threw ourselves to the floor as stone dust from the trembling ceiling ghosted us.
I panted, pulling my arms over my head.
The lights went out, casting us — and the House of Rose, Wolf, and Fox — into the dark.
I lay, listening to the ragged breaths of Rebel and his family, whilst we waited to burn like their house. And the only thought spiralling through me was that I’d killed us all.
Just like Evie had prophesied. Just like I’d always known I would.
I was the cuckoo in the nest.
The monster.
Hurt me, kiss me, burn me…
14
Horrified, tearstained faces ghost flickered back into existence in the black, as Rebel flamed Eclipse like a candle between us.
Crouching on the concrete floor of the cellar, I swept my fingers in jerky arcs through the dust. Nauseous at the dry warmth, I scrubbed my hands down my jeans, gulping panicked breaths.
Then Rebel’s shoulder knocked mine. I glanced at him, and he attempted a smile.
The Blood Familiars whined, nuzzling my knees. Their eyes were heavy-lidded and drowsy; Blaze curled around his brother. Their weight, each time they bumped me, was a reminder this was real.
Witches, an angel, Blood Familiars and me…huddled in the dank cellar, whilst vampires skittered and scampered above our heads across the iron ceiling.
I never reckoned I’d miss just a regular — human — screwed-up Christmas.
I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my sleeve. ‘If I’m going to be the roasted turkey, then someone’s telling me who the bastards are that’ll be munching on my—’
‘Tiny breasts?’ Evie pouted.
‘Burnt wings,’ I growled.
‘The gits call themselves The Pure. Their boss is Eden. I’ve killed enough of them to know my balls would be sliced off, before my wings, and then…’
‘But what’s their beef with me?’
Rebel’s breath hitched. He pulled his knees close and hugged them with his arms. ‘Like me, you’re not pure. They’re extremists who see you as nothing but abnormal. And any creature not like them is destroyed or forced to convert.’
The violet fury, which had withered before the fire, frightened into submission, burst to life, dragging with it an oily slick of black dominance. The twin sensations carried me to my feet. I towered over Rebel, staring down at his startled face. ‘Secrets. How many more are there?’
‘A whole world — worlds — of them. I didn’t mean to hide this.’
‘Liar,’ I was cold, even as I swayed with the heat. ‘Why didn’t you want me to know there were different types of vampires? And who did you have me killing?’
‘That’s indeed an excellent question,’ Da undid the top button of his shirt and shucked his jacket; he was struggling to breathe.
Rebel glanced between us, biting his lip. ‘The
Pure,’ he whispered at last.
By the way the Deadmans exclaimed, I knew it was the wrong answer. But this time he was on his own.
‘If we live tonight,’ when I pointed at Rebel, he quailed; the light from Eclipse wavered, ‘we’re going to talk about respect, trust, and how angels don’t fib to monsters.’
He gave a tight nod. ‘If we live tonight.’ He ducked his head, but I could still see his lips quirk. ‘I told you I was bad.’
Rap, rap, rap.
The three sharp knocks on the cellar door echoed in the dark.
We all stilled.
Silence.
Then Eden’s charming, teasing voice, ‘Angel and monster, come out to me, then I won’t roast, the witches for tea.’ A shrill laugh. ‘Whoops, I have burnt them, well, burnt down the witches’ house.’
‘I bet you were the kid no one played with at school. I’m right, yeah? So, you put your teddies in the corner, sang them freaky songs, and set alight the one with the fraying fur.’
‘How rude,’ Eden sounded genuinely disappointed in me. ‘There’s so much darkness in you, I can hardly see the light. Yet your angel loves his gaolers, so let me offer him the choice: in ten minutes, we’ll dig out this cellar. Then I’ll feast on the witches, whilst you watch.’
Rebel gasped, struggling to his feet. ‘You won’t—’
‘That’s right, I won’t. If you and your monster walk up the cellar steps before the watch ticks and surrender yourself to me. There’s always a choice.’
Rap, rap, rap.
‘Ten minutes.’
I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached. Hell, I itched to smash Eden in the nose. To see the smug bastard struggle in ice-cold water, as Tiny Fang had, or kiss him to ash, like Phoenix.
I was a hunter. We’d trained to fight.
‘What do I…?’ Rebel spun on the spot with Eclipse, like a Catherine wheel. The violet spectre-trailed through the gloom.
‘On your knees,’ Da’s curt command tumbled Rebel into position, his head hanging low. When Da stroked through Rebel’s flame of hair, he leant into the touch. ‘This belongs to your…true father.’ Rebel’s head shot up in shock. Da had taken out a glistening silver dagger from the safe. A star was carved into the hilt. A silver threaded scabbard dangled from Da’s other hand. ‘We acquired Star after… Did you think we were unaware of your search? That we’d allow you to leave the house without permission, if it was not our will?’
Vampire Huntress (Rebel Angels Book 1) Page 13
