Kite
“How are we going to find them exactly?” I asked as Mercy ordered staff about on the motor-powered yacht.
“Varick has a tracker,” she said triumphantly, waving an iPhone in my face, showing a blinking light that was moving south through the North Sea. “A parting gift from my brother...” She tucked her hair back which was poking out of a red beret. Her outfit was ridiculous for such an expedition. Her legs were clad in thin tights and she wore heeled boots on her feet. At least she'd had the sense to put a coat on. Not that I gave a crap whether she froze to death or not. In fact, I was kind of looking forward to watching her suffer.
We set sail, heading across the churning sea, leaving Raskdød far behind us, passing the craggy outcrop of rock where the lighthouse stood. The memories of the game rolled over me. I wasn't weak, but that game had left its mark on me...
I sat with Mercy in the cabin, my tongue scraping against the roof of my mouth at her scent. Mercy's smell was delicious, but she was also off limits. The remote control around her neck reminded me of that. The man steering the boat, however, looked pretty tasty, too.
“Stop mentally devouring my crew,” Mercy said in a bored voice, running her finger down the remote control to remind me of her power. Her legs were crossed, her elevated foot bouncing with impatience. She wanted vengeance, just like her father. Her eyes were full of it. I'd always been good at reading people. That's why I'd cornered Selena the day after she'd entered prison. Girl may not have known it, but she was the kind of person people banded around. And no one was going to take my crown.
Course, she had beaten me in the V Games. And in all honesty, I had a bit of a crush on the girl - not something many people achieved. So if anyone had to survive that wasn't me, I liked that it was her.
A radio buzzed on the console and Mercy stood, picking it up.
“Mercy, orders are to scout out Varick with that tracker,” Abraham's voice crackled down the line. “The second you locate him and whoever he's with, radio back to me and I'll follow with my crew, over.”
“Sure Daddy,” she said, pressing a manicured finger onto the radio.
“Over and out sweetie.”
I rolled my eyes and Mercy glared at me, placing the radio down. “Problem?”
“You know Daddy's just sending you off to make you feel useful. He's probably got his own plan, packing up a boat full of weapons while you're out of the way.”
She pouted. “My father knows I'm capable. Once I find them-”
“If you find them you'll...what? Radio back to Daddy and wait for the real army to show up?” I ran my tongue over my teeth, enjoying the way she squirmed at my words, her cheeks turning bright red.
“I could take them on if I needed to. I'm a Helsing.”
“Sure,” I said vaguely.
She let out a huff of frustration and pointed to the door. “Go stand out there. I'm sick of the sight of you.”
I stood, lazily making my way outside, glad to be as far from her as she was from me.
I kept to myself, happy to be left alone at last after being dragged around like a dog for days. I guessed Abraham was taking a gamble on me now by removing my muzzle. His display of death at Ignus's funeral had certainly given me cause to worry. But why was he trusting me now? With his daughter of all people. Especially after what had just happened to Ignus.
Maybe I really wasn't strong enough to take on Mercy. She looked feeble enough, but even if I could part her from that remote control, maybe I'd find she wasn't the fragile flower she appeared to be.
As we sailed on toward the dark horizon, I cherished the night air, the sea spray, the way the moon glistened and sparkled on the waves. I'd always been more of a night person. It wasn't a sore loss to me to be confined to it.
Let's play, Kitten.
The ghosts were close tonight, closer than they'd been in a long time. I shivered, though not against the cold. I couldn't feel that at all. It was my past that froze my heart. And the memories seemed all-consuming as I gazed up at the stars. The mementos had been scrubbed clean from my skin. The tattoos that had marked my journey, reminding me of what I'd been through. It seemed stupid now. As if I could ever really lose those memories. They were chiselled into my skull. They weren't going anywhere. Tattoos or not.
Ten Years Ago
“Kitty! It's snowing again, it's snowiiiiing!” My little sister grabbed my arm, tugging and pulling me out of the chaise lounge I was curled up in. I had homework to do. Daddy said I could be the top of my class if only I worked a little harder. But I hated working. I loved dancing and singing and making up plays with my sister, Poppy. Or Puppy as I called her.
“Kittennnn,” she whined, tugging harder, throwing her head back so her black curls flew all around her. Six years old and a total menace. I was the grown up one. Eight and three quarters. But okay, I wanted to play, too.
I threw my maths book across the room and it slid over the hardwood floors, right up to the fireplace.
Poppy started giggling and I chased her toward the glass doors where light was streaming in. Snow and sunshine all at once. What could be better?
I dragged on my boots and skipped outside. Poppy took my hand, beaming one of her gappy-toothed grins at me. She'd gotten all the looks. Mummy said I took after Daddy. My face was all pointy and hers was round and chubby like the angel we put on top of the Christmas tree.
One week and one day till Christmas. I helped Mummy pick the presents for Poppy. I knew Santa wasn't real. I'd worked it out when I'd waited up all night last year. I'd watched as Daddy ate the mince pie we left out for Santa and even chewed on the carrot Poppy had left for Rudolph. My Daddy was as fat as Santa, but they weren't similar in any other way.
I'd jumped out from my hiding place behind Mummy's writing desk and he'd had to tell me everything. No Santa, no Tooth-fairy, no Easter bunny. I'd sulked for a whole week and the worst part of it all was that I wasn't allowed to tell Poppy. But Mummy let me help this year. I'd get to play Santa with her and Daddy. I was going to stay up until Poppy fell asleep on Christmas Eve then sneak presents into her room. So I was all grown up now. I knew the truth. And Mummy said knowing the truth was a great responsibility.
Poppy threw a snowball at me and I ducked, laughing as I scooped up a ball in my bare hand and threw it at her. I hit her right in the neck and she screamed, running away from me. “Catch me Kitten!”
“Slow down, Puppy!” I laughed, running after her. The garden was huge. Much bigger than my friends' gardens. We even had a stables and a whole woodland that belonged to us where I could ride my pony. My friends didn't have ponies. Only me. Me and Poppy.
Poppy skidded on a patch of ice and her legs went over her head as she fell. She never stopped laughing the whole time. When I plucked her from the snow, her pale cheeks were rose-red and snow clung to her little bobble hat.
“Be careful.” I sounded like Mummy, but Poppy was always so clumsy. She'd knocked the whole turkey onto the floor last Christmas.
“Oh Kitten, I'm fine. You'll always pick me up.”
I smiled down at her, brushing snow from her dark hair. “Always.”
◐ ☼ ◐
The sky was lightening on the horizon, the dusky blue turning pale purple. I returned to the cabin, muttering an explanation about us leaving the polar circle and Mercy wordlessly pointed to the stairs at the back of the cabin, leading below deck.
I headed into the depths of the yacht, picking out a bunk and climbing onto it. I turned into the pillow, the smell of fresh linen rolling over me. And I thought of Poppy, the only thing in my human life that still resonated with me wholly. I promised I'd never leave her. That I'd never forget her. And I was thankful Vampirism hadn't taken that from me. Not yet anyway.