Blood Renegades (Rebel Vampires Book 3)

by Rosemary A Johns

  ‘You forgot my number?’ Fernando’s mouth was twisted like he wanted to twist something else. By the way he was casting these furious glances at me? I reckoned it was my neck. ‘Like I’ve just been sitting on my thumbs waiting..?’

  ‘Shut your mush.’ To my shock? Fernando actually did. ‘There are bigger things here than your petty pride. We had to keep safe.’

  ‘Whoa, calm down there, little man,’ Fernando fluttered his long dark eyelashes, as if he was the reasonable one. All right, point made. ‘Why were you hiding?’

  I bristled. ‘Don’t call me little man.’

  ‘Can’t you tell?’ Sun leant in closer to the computer. The bustle and chatter of the café was suddenly too loud; the neon blue of the streetlamp reflected through the glass was too bright. The sweaty stink of the teenagers, who were pressed up next to us intent on their fantasy multi-player game, was too powerful. Sun licked her lips. How was she getting off on this? ‘Your family were mine on account of I was alone in Harvard. Your cuz? He was like my brother. But would they have me over for a keg party or lobster roll now?’

  Fernando pushed himself closer to the screen as well, as if he was able to climb through it. ‘You’re one of them,’ he hissed.

  ‘Not Invasion of the Body Snatchers.’

  Fernando’s dark gaze flickered to mine. ‘Yah, it is. You murdered Grayse. So I don’t know how but I’ll have vengeance.’

  ‘Think that line’s taken.’

  ‘What do you want? Humans working here.’ Cold and dismissive. Fernando’s mask melted in the golden warmth of that humming lab.

  Now it was Sun, rather than Grayse?

  The tosser didn’t give a monkey’s.

  Somehow Sun had known.

  ‘Ya huh! You don’t pull that one on account of Blood Lifers are dying here. You study this: evolution. So you wanna study that or extinction?’

  ‘Always were a drama queen, whoever the frak you are now,’ Fernando sighed. ‘What miracle do you want my magic fingers to pull off this time?’

  ‘I have the brains; you have the…ethical hacking. When I was at Mann with that right bastard Master, I broke into his study. Paid for it mind. I found a list though: all the specialist slaves sent around the globe, their masters and locations. I memorised it. You hack--’

  Fernando frantically waved his hands around like he was swatting an invisible wasp. ‘Wanna say that word any louder? Another time? Unencrypted? Where even are you? You’re not on a private computer…’

  ‘How do you know? Been hacking us?’ Exploding Alpha Geek. I couldn’t help hopping in my seat in expectation. Until Sun grasped my hand, and I noticed her stormy expression. All right then, best not to poke the bloke with a stick, whilst you’re asking for help, even when he is your lover’s ex. ‘It’s safer this way. You don’t need to know where we are.’

  ‘Southwark, man,’ the pink haired teenager, who was plugged into an online dragon game on the computer next to ours, helpfully offered with a grin, ‘our ends, innit?’

  Fernando smiled – white and wide. ‘London? Why don’t you come down Boston? To the university?’

  ‘Nice shiny lab with matching dissection tables all ready for us?’

  Fernando tried – hard – to look hurt.

  I could see the thoughts, however, whirring; I sodding wished I hadn’t given him ideas. ‘All we need is for you to h – a - c – k Abona’s records. Then match the slave names to the original Blood Lifers. Also see what’s been happening at the locations because it turns out some bleeding heroes – the Renegades – have been rescuing these high end slaves. The poor gits who got the same treatment as me, before being sold to princes and billionaires. Trust me, it won’t be a hard trail of breadcrumbs to follow because they’ll be dripping crimson.’

  Fernando examined me in silence. It made me feel like my insides were on display bloody. Then he gave a sharp nod. ‘I’m warning you, this time it’s not a freebie. If I do this? Here’s the deal: I wanna research him.’

  The glint in Fernando’s peepers, as he pointed at me, gave me the willies. I could already imagine the scalpel in his hand. ‘Hey now, I’ve had enough of being poked and prodded by so-called doctors.’

  ‘Then goodbye.’

  ‘Wait, buggering hell, alright then.’ I was panting; my heart was thundering.

  When had that started?

  Sun had slipped her arm around my waist; her fingers dug into me like a claim, as if she’d never let me go. Never let this wanker own me, like the slavers had, the Doctor, Captain…

  ‘I’ll call you this time tomorrow,’ when Sun licked up my neck I jumped; Fernando did too. ‘Light? He’s mine. You want him? Na-ah, not happening. You find us what we need to know. Then we’ll talk.’

  The screen went blank.

  ‘Off the hook: that was some serious live action role-playing or something?’ The pink haired kid gazed at us in awe.

  ‘Yeah, something.’ When I stroked Sun’s hand, she eased her death grip. ‘Still reckon Fernando’s a decent bloke?’

  Sun shrugged, but her mush was shuttered. I wished I could’ve snogged the sun back into her.

  ‘We’ll get Donovan back. Sod the Blood Life Council and wankering Captain. Bugger Fernando. We’re--’

  ‘Don’t you dare say safe.’

  Sun’s murmur was like a slap in the mush. Her python gaze was hypnotizing. ‘You don’t get to leave me. You’re soft if you reckon you can just sacrifice yourself. You’re my Author.’

  ‘Am I now? I didn’t reckon I meant that much to you.’

  Sun’s peepers widened. Then she was snogging me.

  Her hand grasped behind my neck; her body wound round mine. Her fingers were playing with strands of my hair; my scalp bursting in delicious tingles. I could hardly breathe: nothing but Sun, Sun, Sun… The whoops and catcalls from the teenagers sounded far away.

  I was soaring. Lost in Sun: her touch, taste, love…

  Until Sun suddenly drew back; snake ready to strike. ‘Remember that Emo kid, who was spying on us?’

  I risked a nod.

  ‘Don’t you think it would be wicked strange, if he wasn’t connected?’

  Reckoning I was hunting Emo but realising he was hunting me... The fight outside the gleaming Shard where he shot me… A shooter the same as the Blood Life Council were using… The games of hide-and-seek ever since, even when I was with Will, except I’d let it go because of Will…

  Sun was right.

  This was my fault.

  I must’ve allowed my thoughts to show because Sun’s gaze sharpened. ‘No more lies. You knew that something was up?’

  ‘I didn’t, luv. But that kid…’

  ‘You saw him again?’

  I risked another nod.

  ‘Since when didn’t you tell me on account of I’m family? Na-ah, I don’t wanna hear it. Ever since that human pet? It’s like you’re not even with us anymore.’ When Sun stood up, I could see she was shaking. I didn’t know how to reach her. Not now. ‘I wanna get Donovan back. But you? That’s a whole notha matter. How am I gonna get you back?’

  Then she was gone – bang – there went the Internet Café’s door.

  ‘You just got owned,’ the teenager sniggered.

  I slumped back in my plastic chair – squeak. ‘You’re not wrong, mate.’

  Water tears snaked down the café’s front, as I rested my forehead against the freezing pane and shivered. I splayed my fingers, their imprint ghosted against the glass. Rain wormed down the back of my neck. My pompadour dampened to curls.

  I sneezed, snuffling mournfully.

  I didn’t go in the light and warmth, however, to the teenage crews, blokes rewriting their CVs or practising for their citizenships. Not again. That was Fernando’s territory. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to return to Peter Pan’s and Sun either.

  Not yet.

  So here I was. Dreary no-man’s-land. Sodding cold, it was.

  Fernando had looked like he was wet dreaming,
when the monitor had sprung on, and he’d caught a gander of me slouched on the plastic seat for our meet up…and no Sun.

  I’d rather not have known what his come face looked like.

  Fernando had drooled over my every word. I hadn’t blamed him. No Sun? Meant I’d been back on the market: free to be possessed.

  Looked like he’d been eager to slip on the collar.

  Still, if I was going to be Fernando’s lab rat, then I’d demanded results: names and locations sent directly to Hartford’s iPhone.

  Aedan had gifted the snazzy little number to Hartford. How’s that for a get well pressie? That way Hartford could work even whilst healing in Aedan’s bed. Hartford’s dark despair was now tinged with determination. It was bloody terrifying.

  I wouldn’t be the Blood Life Council for the world.

  ‘There’ll be a pattern; there always is,’ I’d told Fernando. ‘It’s just a matter of looking right. Someone’s hushing it up. A terrorist’s M.O. is fear, right? Panic? Control? So where are the corpses? The fires? If these Renegades hate the slavers anywhere close to as much as I do? They’re not going to be asking nicely for them to free their property over a cup of tea.’

  Now I should be going home again, except Sun and her silent accusations sucked up the air until I choked.

  Sun had been this pissed at me only once before.

  We’d just moved into the apartment – with the holes in the wall, the taps that never worked and Mr Rat – and I’d discovered Grayse’s crimson evening dress balled at the bottom of the bedroom wardrobe. Bloodstained and still smelling of gorse and sunlight: Grayse in every bursting miraculous breath. The memory had cocooned me; I’d been safe in it.

  I’d straightened out the dress, curling around it, as if I could bring back the shape of Grayse out on the moors. It’d held me in its embrace: how I’d bleeding craved I could hold her one more time.

  That night had come crashing back: when Grayse’s dad – Master – had shot her. The moment – that agonising moment - when I’d known I was going to bring her back as a Blood Lifer.

  Yet Ruby hadn’t been one to share her secrets. I’d been led like a puppy on a string, rather than apprenticed into the dark arts of second life. In my hesitation, both Hartford and Donovan has grasped my hands, their fangs springing out to guide my own to the back of Grayse’s neck and her spinal column: the very place Sir had desecrated with the tracker and branches of fire.

  Then I’d injected the venom, as Grayse had died. Because our life? It’s not only in the blood. It’s in our venom. That’s our evolution.

  Our strength.

  I’d felt Grayse’s heart stop. Then there’d just been my own fast pulse. My venom seeping through tree-like nerves. We’d been one, as I’d authored her – and she’d evolved.

  Into one of us.

  When Grayse, however, had opened her peepers? I hadn’t kidded myself. She hadn’t been my Grayse any longer. She’d become someone else. New born to this brutal world. Born of my fangs.

  And she was formidable.

  ‘She’s not me,’ I’d opened my peepers to discover Sun standing over me. Her mush had been death white.

  Tumbled in our wardrobe, wrapped in Grayse’s dress? My nose pressed to the satin? Silently crying?

  I’d been so buggered.

  I’d tried to push myself up but tangled in the threads, I’d landed on my arse. ‘I know that, sweetheart.’

  ‘She’s dead.’

  ‘Again, I--’

  ‘You’re in love with a ghost.’

  Sun had slammed out then – bang.

  I’d sodding wished she’d clouted me instead.

  Then there was Will. I couldn’t even think about Will.

  I couldn’t work out what was worse: my guilt for not seeing him or the guilt I’d ever seen him at all.

  I’d caught up with Trinity along the back of Borough Market, as she’d been strutting home. I’d wanted to know if she’d heard any whispers about Donovan’s kidnap.

  Trinity had looked me up and down like I’d crawled out of the Thames. ‘That bare jokes, bruv. We your invisible army?’ She’d snorted. ‘Or this mean you be seeing mandem now we useful to you?’

  ‘Bugger that. You and me? We’re--’

  Trinity shoved me in the chest. ‘‘Cos you’re sorry for us? Reckon we’re the same as some creature?’ I’d drawn back; Trinity knew how to grab a bloke by the throat. ‘This Donovan? He be the same one as wanted to snack on my Will?’

  ‘Heard about that, did you?’

  Suddenly Trinity had been so close to my mush, her lips had been touching mine. ‘It don’t matter how much chocolate and BS you been feeding Will, I ain’t helping you find no monster.’

  ‘He’s my bloody family, you stupid bint.’ I’d twisted away before I’d been able to say – do – more.

  I’d reckoned I was learning this friendship lark but I was still paddling in the shallow end.

  Sighing, I slipped out my e-cig, clenching it between my trembling lips in the cold. A few more drags, then I’d have the balls to go home to Sun.

  Crash.

  Screaming agony.

  Crash.

  Blood dripping.

  Crash.

  Nose broken.

  Dazed, I scrabbled behind me at the bastard, who was slamming me headfirst into the glass.

  There was copper in my mouth. Lights fairy danced.

  I shot back my elbow, hearing the satisfying oomph of a connection. Pressure was pushing me flat against the café’s front.

  The teenagers must be getting quite a show.

  Elbows, neck, back… It was organised. A team.

  First Lifers.

  Not again. Not this time.

  I kicked my foot out, before pushing back, thrashing wildly. I was desperate to at least see my hidden enemies: the bleeding cowards who’d attack a bloke from behind.

  A holler, cursing, and then…

  Crash, crash, crash.

  I yowled.

  Sun…a dark tunnel of grey…Sun…

  She wasn’t here. She was meant to be. Yet because of my secrets she was safe.

  Sun was safe.

  A sharp prick in my neck.

  The wankers plunged the needle deeper. Somewhere in my scrambled brain, I remembered. The thick transparent liquid: our venom in pure form.

  Silverman’s experiments.

  I was the lab rat.

  I laughed – I couldn’t help it - at the sodding irony, as paralysis cramped my limbs and our toxin held me prisoner in my own body. I couldn’t even blink the blood out of my peepers.

  I was a poseable doll.

  True terror set in then. What did they want me for?

  Strangers’ hands seized me like they had every right to touch. Then fingers on my eyelids – intimate and wrong - closing them.

  Forcing me into the dark.

  NIGHT 6

  You look…

  Knackered? Like a dog’s breakfast? Death warmed up? Starvation, sleep deprivation and five rounds of torture on the trot will do that to a bloke.

  Mr Blickle, the Blood Life Council does not employ such methods. I was assured--

  If you were assured…and you are again?

  The woman who’s trying to save your ungrateful – and rather worn – behind from an untimely demise.

  If you wish to heal today and smoke that e-cig of yours, then secrets are on the agenda. If you also wish me to delve into your claims of unfair treatment..? That extraordinary mind of yours - I want it.

  I’m only here – alive – because of my photographic memory?

  I’d wondered at your generosity.

  Talents are our genetic advantage. Why we’ve always been the apex predator.

  What you’re also not figuring, however, is that when you’re persecuted, you use every trick and con to adapt.

  That’s what makes me the bloody king.

  You won’t be pulling the wool over my eyes, Thomas.

  We’ll see.
But truth or trust? None of that means a thing when weighed in the balance with survival.

  Dark.

  Help, help, help…

  I. Can’t. Open. My. Eyes.

  Chains.

  Tight around my wrists and ankles, tying me down to the cold plastic of an examining table.

  You feel that once? You never forget.

  Can’t move. Can’t speak. Can’t see.

  Can hear though and feel…

  Hands.

  Touching every bleeding inch of me, probing and exploring, alien-like in latex gloves.

  Bloody make them stop.

  But they didn’t stop; icy fingers owned me in the dark, as if I was a cadaver, ready to be sliced, before my lungs were pulled from my chest.

  Inside panic coiled, but I couldn’t even shudder or pant: the venom kept my heart pumping as calm as you like. I could hear it, mocking in my ears – beat, beat, beat – as those hands reduced me to nothing.

  Yet Sun wasn’t with me. Amongst the terror and despair – hallelujah to the golden heavens – Sun was safe. She should’ve been at the café. If I hadn’t narked her off? She would’ve been.

  Whatever they did to me? No matter what the bastards stripped from me this time?

  They couldn’t hurt me - not truly.

  Because Sun was safe.

  ‘Subject One is a proper job,’ the hands’ owner – a First Lifer – patted my stomach.

  My name is Light, my name is Light, my name is…

  But I couldn’t even whisper it.

  Dark. Violation. Dark.

  Hours? Days? Weeks?

  Trapped. Powerless. Lost.

  Entombed inside your own motionless body, time doesn’t mean a bleeding thing. All I knew? Hunger, blood pangs, nicotine craving, cold, cramps…

  As a slave, I’d been strapped down: stripped of hair to be fetishized into a plaything. Suffered surgery with no anaesthetic: to be implanted with the wankering tracker or to have my fangs pulled out one by one by the Doctor.

  I had no choice or control. Yet I’d freed myself, slaughtered the slavers and freed my family. But this time? I didn’t even know who’d kidnapped me, why they’d taken me, or if it was a death sentence.