Phoebe Harkness Omnibus

by James Fahy

  I peered at him through my sunglasses. His white shirt looked cream next to his alabaster skin, the light of the sun making him glow. His dark, mussed hair was a startling contrast. A shard of worry sliced briefly into my mind.

  “Do you want to go back yet?” he asked softly, as we passed beneath the shadow of an ancient stone bridge. Somewhere in the reeds I could hear the busy industry of dragonflies. A low, somnambulant buzz.

  “No,” I said, leaning back and looking up at the sky with a sigh. “I’ve never been this far downriver before.”

  “Have another strawberry,” he said, leaning forward. He had plucked one from the basket behind him, and now he leaned over, steadying himself with his free hand on the side of the boat as he lowered over me. His motion made the boat rock in the water.

  “Stop it,” I said, laughing. “You’re going to capsize us.”

  He grinned back at me, flashing his disarming smile. His knee at my hip as he offered the bright red fruit. I brought my hand up from the water, splashing him.

  “Idiot,” I said, still unable to suppress a giggle as the boat rocked, and, oars unattended, we began to drift slowly and aimlessly, carelessly adrift on the water.

  “You know,” he murmured, as I lifted my head to take a bite, and he playfully held the strawberry just out of reach. “There are other ways to capsize a boat.”

  I reached up and stroked his neck with my wet hand. His skin was smooth as marble.

  “You’re cold,” I smiled.

  “So’s your hand,” he replied. “Eat.”

  I bit the strawberry, feeling its sweet tang fill my mouth. He watched me with an intense fascination in his grey eyes. His other hand sliding softly across my ribcage.

  “Your lips are red,” he whispered, lowering himself further. Water from his hair dripped onto me. Freezing and raising goosebumps.

  “Strawberry juice,” I replied. “You, sir, are simply bloodthirsty.”

  His face lowered until his lips were an inch above mine. Under the sweet smells of the fruit and the champagne, and the fresh green scent of the river itself, I could smell him, blood and iron. The worry spiked again, fleeting.

  “Share?” he asked, lowering to gently bite my lip.

  “Wait,” I said, suddenly confused. I put my hand on his chest and gently pushed him up from me. I glanced around at the Thames, pushing my sunglasses up into my hair. The brightness was dazzling. We were far up the river. Countryside, peace and serenity surrounded us. “This is…wrong.”

  He narrowed his eyes, smirking at me. “Don’t be prudish,” he joked. “Who’s to say what’s right and wrong? There’s no one here but us.”

  I was suddenly horribly confused. “No, this….where are we? How did we even get here?”

  “Does it matter?” he asked. Lowering his head again he nuzzled my neck, his tongue slowly exploring the hollow of my throat between soft slow kisses. Shivers ran through me, but this was all wrong, I knew it. I felt clouded, I couldn’t remember how we got here. His hand took mine, long cool fingers lacing with my own.

  I tilted my head back, squirming a little and distracted by the play of his lips across my collarbone. Maybe he was right. Maybe it didn’t matter. Not right now. The sun was so warm, the sky so bright. It was so peaceful here.

  The sun…? “Why…why are you not on fire?” I asked, gently twisting my head to detach him.

  He took our joined hands, and slid them down between us, past his waist.

  “I am,” he muttered, not raising his head, although I felt him smile against my neck. “Can’t you tell?”

  I really could. “No, wait. Stop,” I said, ever so slightly hating myself for it. “I mean it. The sun. Why…?”

  Realisation dawned as he slowly sat up, rocking back on his heels, making the water slosh. He looked questioning.

  “Ohhhhhhhhh…” I realised. My face fell. I dropped the champagne glass overboard into the water with a plop. “…Fuck.”

  A shadow passed over the sun. Allesandro lay back in the boat, putting his hands behind his head and sighing.

  “We’re in my goddamn head again, aren’t we?” I realised, sitting up between his legs. “None of this is real. Of course, I’m not punting down the Isis with you. You’re not really here, lounging sprawled and wet in this boat.” I bit my lip a little, drinking in the sight of him. “All…debauched and Byronic and….such.”

  “I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t realise.” He grinned up innocently at the hazy clouds.

  “This bond of yours,” I said, frustrated. “I’m going to absolutely…kill…you. I don’t even own a floaty white dress.”

  He reached up and gently took hold of my wrists, slowly pulling me down on top of him. Our ungoverned boat passed under the trailing branches of a willow tree, a green curtain along the riverbank. The leaves caressed my back gently as we passed into the shadows beyond.

  “Don’t blame me, Doctor,” he said, as our vessel floated beneath the trailing canopy. “I’m not even here. This is your dream not mine. Interpret what you will.”

  Dappled shadows fell across us, in our strange watery grotto beneath the tree branches. The sunlight rippled back up into the air where it hit the water’s surface, making reflections dance on our faces. This wasn’t real. I knew that. It was just in my own head. No one knew I was here except for me. I slowly reached out and laced my fingers through his hair. It was soft and thick.

  “I’ve always wanted to do that,” I said. I almost smiled. “But we…I mean I…I have to wake up.”

  His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me down further. “Right now?” he questioned. His lips brushed against my ear. “Wait a while longer? Just a while.”

  It was getting darker in the river glade we had floated into, almost as though all the light were draining out of the sky. He was like a pale ghost beneath me, his chest rising and falling beneath mine. It was secluded here, a hidden green space, made just for the two of us.

  I was extremely tempted to wait a while longer.

  “I can’t,” I whispered, staring down at him. I couldn’t seem to take a full breath. It was so hot.

  He tilted his head upwards, eyes closed, offering me his mouth, his lips slightly parted. I’d never seen anyone look so hungry. “Why not?” The light was fading more, I could barely see him, the water lapped at the sides of our boat.

  I suddenly knew why not, with absolute certainty, the way one does in dreams.

  “Because…we’re going to die.”

  29.

  My eyes shot open wide, or at least I think they did. It was impossible to tell as everything was pitch black. I was still lay atop Allesandro, but I could see nothing. It was freezing, and every part of me hurt like hell. I tried to sit up but cracked my head after only a few inches, falling back forward onto the vampire and almost head-butting him. There was a solid wall directly above me. What the fuck was going on? It felt like we were still in the boat, but there was no light, no rocking motion.

  “Hey,” Allesandro said. His hands were on my waist. “Calm down, you’ll hurt yourself.”

  “What’s happening?” I gasped, as the dream faded and I remembered the scene in the museum. “The Bonewalker! I can’t see, why can’t I see anything?” Was I blind?

  “I know. Shhhhh…” He was stroking my waist.

  I tried to roll off the vampire, but again found that I hit solid walls in the darkness on both sides. I was hemmed in, barely room to manoeuvre. “I can’t move.” I could hear the panic rising in my voice. “Why can’t I move!!?”

  “It’s okay,” he said soothingly. “Calm down. The Bonewalker’s gone, Doctor. It’s gone. Okay?”

  My hands were on his chest in the narrow pitch darkness. He felt cold. I couldn’t see his face, but I could feel his breath on me. My hair was loose and hanging down into his. There wasn’t much I could do about that. “What…what happened?” I said shakily, trying unsuccessfully to calm down. “Where are we?”

  “Well,” the vam
pire’s voice whispered from beneath me. “What happened is the Bonewalker took us and ‘moved us’ in that way they do.” He sighed. “As for where we are. Well, it’s as dark in here for me as it is for you, so I can only guess. But…” He hesitated. “…Don’t freak out on me, okay?”

  My heart was already pounding like a jackhammer. I tried to move again, but could barely arch my back before it hit solid and unyielding walls.

  “Where are we, Allesandro?” I spluttered. “Where has it taken us?”

  “I think…” the vampire whispered calmly, choosing his words carefully, “…we may have been buried alive.”

  I freaked out.

  “Stop it! Stop screaming. You’ll use the air up faster.” Strangely, this didn’t have the intended calming effect. With some effort he writhed until he could move his hands and grab my wrists. I did stop screaming, but then I started hyperventilating. Good God, we were in a coffin? We were underground? It was pitch black. I could feel the weight of the earth above me. Crushing down on us.

  I’ve never been good with tight spaces anyway. I don’t even like crowded elevators. “Oh God…ohgodohgodohgod.”

  “Doctor,” the vampire said softly. “Calm down. Thrashing around isn’t going to help.”

  I couldn’t calm down. My heart felt like a bird thudding against my ribcage. I was going to throw up. That was going to be really bad news for Allesandro.

  “Phoebe.”

  I stopped, forcing myself to be still by sheer effort of will. I could still feel my hands shaking in his.

  “Okay…” I panted. “Okay.” I blinked rapidly in the darkness, not that it make the slightest jot of difference. “Oh God, Allesandro. What are we going to do? How do we get out? How deep are we?” My breathing sped up again.

  “Phoebe, stop. Stop moving.” He sighed. “Sweetheart, if you keep writhing on top of me, I won’t be held accountable for my actions. Thinking about cricket will only get me so far.”

  I froze.

  “Good, now I have a plan, so just calm down,” he said firmly, releasing my hands.

  I took a deep shuddering breath. A plan. Good. “Right. I’m okay. I’m okay. What happened? What happened to us? Why was there a Bonewalker in the bloody museum? Where’s Oscar?”

  “Better,” he said in the dark. “First things first though…could you get your knee off my shin?”

  I slid my leg to the side. My foot fell beside his, hitting the box with a metallic thud. The noise didn’t echo. Everything in here was muffled, muted. A sudden, unbidden image rose in my mind, not of us being buried under dark soil but trapped in an airtight coffin underwater, sinking silently into a deep, black abyss. What a blessing it is to have a vivid imagination at times like this. The panic started to rise in me again and I choked it down with effort.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “It all happened so fast. The Bonewalker. It shifted you. I tried to grab you, but you just…fainted into it. Then we were here. That’s the next thing I remember. That’s all I know.”

  We were both silent for a few seconds in the crushing, claustrophobic blackness.

  “What were you dreaming about?” he asked.

  I froze again, suddenly incredibly glad he couldn’t see my face. “Um…what?”

  “You were unconscious,” he explained. “You have been for ages. Murmuring in your sleep and…” He paused a moment. “Well, squirming,” he finished carefully.

  Oh God, kill me now.

  “Not entirely unpleasant,” he commented innocently.

  “Don’t,” I snapped. “Just don’t, okay?” I sighed, my neck was aching from holding my head up. I carefully lowered it, not knowing where his face was, and not wanting to head-butt him by accident. I had forgotten he was much taller than me. My head touched his chest, and I laid my weight against his collarbone. It was oddly intimate, especially as I hadn’t yet entirely shaken off the lingering dream feelings. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

  “It’s fine,” he replied. “Just don’t panic again.”

  My heart was still thudding in my chest, but I was forcing it to slow down. I realised that I couldn’t feel his chest moving up and down under me. “Am I crushing you?” I asked.

  “Hardly,” he said. I realised he wasn’t breathing. GOs are tricky things. You can fall into the trap of thinking of them as very pale and pretty people. Then something like this happens and you remember that they’re not even the same species as you. I wasn’t lay atop a man, but another creature altogether.

  “You mentioned a plan. Can you bust us out of here?” I asked quietly, not daring to hope.

  “No, I’ve already tried,” he said. “It’s a metal container of some kind. Thick too. I’ve no leverage either. It’s like someone stuck us in a time capsule.”

  “What’s the plan then?”

  “To die of asphyxiation? How would I know?” he asked frustratedly.

  “But…you said you had a plan.” I stared at where I thought his face was.

  “I had to say something…I need you calm.”

  I felt tears welling up in my eyes unbidden, and angrily blinked them away.

  “No one knows we’re here,” I said hoarsely. “I don’t even know where we are myself. No one’s coming to help us.”

  He didn’t reply. His hands fluttered next to me as he felt along the coffin walls. I resisted the childish urge to grab at them. I was truly scared.

  “How long before we run out of air?” I had no idea how long we’d already been here for.

  “Well,” he replied, after a moment’s consideration. “Technically speaking, I’m not breathing, so that should buy us a bit of time.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  I lay my head back down.

  “I guess…we were getting close to something then,” I reasoned. “Why else would they do this to us? At least that’s something…we were close. Cold comfort now though. I hope Lucy and Oscar are okay.”

  “Too close, obviously,” the vampire agreed over the top of my head. “What I can’t understand is, why didn’t they just kill us? This is more sadistic. A cruel sport.”

  “What do you mean, sport?” I was confused.

  “Well…” He sounded uncomfortable. “…I am a vampire. If we stay down here long enough…I’m going to need to feed. They probably expect me to drain you dry.”

  I tried not to picture this and failed. I sighed.

  “Do you know what time it is?” I asked.

  I felt him shake his head in the blackness, his chin above my forehead. “I don’t know, I woke up here too. We could both have been out for hours. It’s daylight out there though, wherever we are.”

  “You can tell that?” I said into his chest.

  “Vampire thing,” he explained. “Late afternoon I think, close to sundown. I guess you missed your work meeting.”

  I humphed into his neck. “Fuck the fucking work meeting. In fact, fuck this whole ambassador shit. It’s been absolute wank from start to finish.” My throat caught when I thought about how imminently finished I was. I felt tears burning in my eyes again. I scrunched them up, ignoring the icky feeling in my nose. I would not cry. I berated myself for being soft, and then immediately got angry at myself for being angry at myself. I would have found my little schizo-montage funny normally but the rage-gasm I was working up to was snowballing relentlessly. “I’ve had people trying to blow me up, rip me apart, smash my head in. All the fucking lying and stealing, and that snivelling shit, Pargate! And bastard Cabal, with their bastard job, stopping me from doing any real work. And fucking Director Coldwater’s fantastic hair. And now we’re stuck in a fucking coffin buried alive…” I took a deep shuddery breath, considering my words. “Well, one of us is buried alive anyway,” I amended. “You’re just…buried.”

  “You know,” he said. “Of all the various scenarios I might have imagined which culminated with the two of us this close together, I must confess forced interment was not amongst them.”

  I smiled wanly. “I’m
going to die here,” I said, my voice feeling hollow. I was scared, but anger was still there too. That someone thought they could do this to me. That I could just be disposed of, someone’s loose end to tie up.

  “There are worse things than death.”

  “Yeah? Name twelve,” I snapped.

  “Don’t get angry,” he said, rolling his shoulders to shift my weight above him a little. “It’s not going to help.”

  I couldn’t help myself, I was pretty fucking pissed off. In fact, I was getting more furious about it with every passing second, I could feel it rising in my chest.

  “Then what should I do, smart-arse? Be all calm and collected like you, because it hasn’t got you out of the fucking box, has it? I think I deserve a little fucking catharsis here!” I was yelling. I had the sudden urge to reach up and slap the vampire, hard. Only the fact that I didn’t have the room stopped me from doing so. It was such a primal urge, almost a need for violence, that it shocked me. I might not be Glenda the good witch, but I’ve never before thought of myself as mean.

  I suddenly caught myself. “Oh no.”

  “What? What is it?” he asked.

  I closed my eyes, not that it made any difference in the dark. I could feel my teeth grinding, my jaw clenching and unclenching. Angry. So angry.

  “Epsilon,” I managed. “My medication. I used it on that fucking Tribal.”

  It had been hours since then. Hours and hours. A whole day had passed since we had been spirited away from the museum. I was well past my time for a shot. Fuck.

  “If I don’t suppress this…the virus,” I said. “…It won’t be just me who dies in here.”

  He seemed to understand. “Doctor, don’t worry about me. Just keep calm and we’ll think of something,” he said carefully.

  Easier said than done, I thought. I could feel bile rising in my throat. Even his voice was infuriating me. He needed to shut up. I had an image in my mind of grabbing his head and thudding it down in the darkness against the metal under us, again and again and again. It was such a violent image, and it brought a rush of primal pleasure to my mind that horrified me.