10
Monster, freak and mutant…with one black and one violet eye, I’d worn the labels from Jerusalem Children’s Home to the schoolyard like Victoria Crosses. No one had seen my secret face beneath.
And we all have one.
Now I knew a true monster had lurked all that time behind the mask of my humanity. For all those years, I’d struggled to be human, when I’d never been one to start with.
Discovering I was part angel should’ve been an ugly duckling to swan fairy tale.
Except, the one angel I knew was bad.
The kitchen crouched in evening shadows; the open fire dragon smouldered.
Snip, snip, snip.
Ma cut a bundle of herbs on the marble counter, her silver bob swaying with each sharp movement.
I hunkered on the swivel stool, elbows on the cool side, losing myself in the music on Jade’s iPod…in Jade.
EELS’ “Your Lucky Day in Hell” caught me in its demented dance, swinging from melancholia to bright choruses in twisted bass jumps.
Then I was spun and with a gasp, reached out to stop myself falling, before Rebel caught me.
Laughing, Rebel plucked the buds from my ears and into his own, as if he wasn’t touching…violating…my memory of Jade.
He grinned. ‘Maybe it’ll be our lucky—’
I punched him in the nose.
He bounced backwards, tumbling onto his arse.
Shaking, I stuffed the iPod back into my pocket.
Rebel looked up with a mix of comical surprise and betrayal. He tilted his head, with that blinking innocence I craved to slap out of him.
The two clashing sides inside me, like static, prickled over my skin, until I scratched frantically at the backs of my hands.
I glanced away from Rebel’s scrutiny. He had his secrets and I had mine.
He gnawed at his lip. ‘If I’ve been a muppet, princess, just tell me.’
I stared down at him. ‘List. Asses. Kick.’
He smirked. ‘I reckon you made your point last night.’
I blushed.
This morning when I’d awoken with a thumping headache — and almost reached for the water again before I remembered just why I felt so rough — the details of my…molesting…Rebel were fuzzy.
But I’d remembered throwing myself at Rebel because of the poison. Worse…he’d rejected me. And worse even than that…? I’d abandoned him to Da’s abuse.
I’d hidden up in my bedroom for the rest of the day, until Rebel had coaxed me down with promises of chocolate cake.
Ma pressed the herbs into a velvet pouch, her emerald eyes watchful.
At last, I held out my hand and hauled up Rebel. ‘I want to know who shanked you. I’m not going to hide behind you. Hide in this house. I want to…stop running away.’ I looked up and our gazes met. ‘Do you reckon I’m frightened of some Big Bad?’
‘What shanked me,’ Rebel amended.
‘Angel?’ I held my breath. I was surprised how much it excited me. The idea there were others like me. Even more thrilling, that’d I’d meet them, even in a fight.
He frowned. ‘You’re not ready.’
I shoved him back against the yellow Bertrazzoni, and he scrabbled against the range, as I boxed him in. ‘Don’t get all Jedi mentor on me because I was ready before some punk bitch fell in my lap.’
‘Cop on! What you’re ready for is about as useful as a lighthouse in a bog.’
Violet rage flushed my cheeks. ‘Then tell me what can school an angel?’
He smiled. ‘How about I show you?’
Heart pounding, I nodded.
This was it: Rebel’s weakness. The moment I slipped in the shank sharp. I knew he was defying Da by taking me out, but this was the only way to push him into freeing us for real.
I hadn’t expected the shudder of guilt but I hid it with a smile. I snatched Rebel’s hand, dragging him across the kitchen.
Ma blocked the door. ‘Do not think, little girl, you can win this game.’ Her lip curled, petulant. ‘You sneak like a snake, so who else will save my boy?’ Rebel glanced between us, his brow furrowed. ‘Here,’ Ma slipped the pouch of herbs she’d been mixing over his head, tying it on a gold cord, ‘if you must play at hunter and with your friend. And never forget your protection.’ She snapped two tiny wicker angel effigies from a string by the door and held them out.
Rebel hung his on a chain of his bondage trousers. I didn’t reach for the second one.
Ma’s fingers shot out, clutching my wrist. ‘You don’t wish to hide? Stupid brat. Because without the effigies you’re the hunted. They stop every sort of angel from tracking you. They also bind you to Rebel,’ she smiled, suddenly I wondered if she could read minds, ‘in case you think to escape.’
I swung to Rebel, but he shrugged. ‘You say you can’t love me? Well, I can’t trust you.’
It turns out, it was Rebel shanking me.
Naïve?
The punk knew about hurt: taking and inflicting it.
Ma shoved the effigy into the pocket of my jeans, and I squirmed under Rebel’s scrutiny.
Yet maybe Rebel was only so good at seeing through my mask because he had so many of his own secrets.
The stars sharp and silent, sparked from the black shroud of the sky.
Rebel’s pale neck stretched long and exposed, as he tipped back his head, ambling up the slope of Kingston Hill, lost in the heavens.
‘What’s up, bro?’
Rebel startled. ‘I’m hunting.’
‘If you’re going to work a lie, you need to stop the Bambi’s had his mummy shot impression.’
’Forty years,’ he murmured, ‘in a cage. Now at least I can look at the stars.’
When I stared out into the infinite dark, I shuddered. The spiralling loss of control sucked at me.
Richmond Royal Park beneath us was a shadowed blanket of woodland and greens, with peaks of brick and pitched roofs, and a snaking boundary wall.
Around us was a suburb for the wealthy stockbrokers and city bankers. Glimpses of Victorian manors and Georgian mansions peeked out between the plane trees and the oaks.
‘Told you I was after hunting,’ Rebel muttered, before unexpectedly tearing down the gated driveway of a modern designer house that was a box of pine and glass.
I retched, bent over.
Crimson — one spot, two, now three dropped shining onto the grass.
I touched my mouth; I was spitting blood.
Zachriel, Zachriel, Zachriel…
I slammed my hands over my ears, but the voice still echoed through my brain.
Ma’s voice.
The angel effigy dug into my thigh through my jeans. Now I understood about it binding me to Rebel. I smeared my bloody mouth across the back of my hand and marched down the wide driveway after Rebel.
Bang — the red Range Rover that was parked in front of the millionaire’s house trembled.
Bang — it rose up and then down, dancing.
Then Rebel, like a streak of fire, was hurled over the roof.
Oomph — Rebel skidded, before landing in a tangled heap at my feet.
Yet he still sprang up, grinning. ‘See? Hunting.’
A figure leapt panther-like onto the roof of the car. His coffee suede coat swept the metal as he stalked towards us. He was dressed in a brown suit as if for a bankers’ meeting beneath his coat, but the silver snake bite lip piercings and his long black hair that swept to his waist would’ve made them stare up in Canary Wharf.
That and Mr Snake Bite’s eyes were as black as his hair.
I raised my hand to my sunglasses; my own black eye throbbed.
What the hell was he? And why did he have eyes…like mine?
Snake Bite leapt over the back of the Range Rover, landing in a perfect feline crouch. Then he looked up at me and smiled.
Bastard fangs.
I stumbled backwards.
Snake Bite’s lips curled in amusement around his canines and he stroked over his smooth ebony cheek.
‘Vampire,’ I hissed. ‘But this is real life, not—’
‘Angels vs Vampires?’ Rebels’ lips quirked, as two…dark creatures…united in their taunting of my tiny human world. Then Rebel threw off his leathers, and his wings burst free in flashing arcs.
Yet if this was a vampire, what did it make me? Half angel, half vampire? Was that even a thing?
Because I didn’t have fangs, just as I didn’t have wings. I also didn’t have a thirst for blood, unless it was Rebel’s…
Was there a reason I’d designed my computer game with supernatural creatures?
I shook.
Until the vampire laughed. ‘A cripple?’ His voice was rich and cultured. I don’t know what I’d been expecting. I was still too dazed by the vampire with black eyes jumping off a Range Rover to expect much beyond a snarl. ‘If you desired to be taken and played with, you should’ve asked.’
Rebel stiffened, his bent wing shrivelling closer to his body. I ached to stroke it back to its glory. ‘Do I look like I’m playing, muppet?’
Rebel reached back between his wings, grasping for Eclipse. Only to pat his t-shirt, like the sword could’ve slipped under the cotton.
I rolled my eyes.
Snake Bite chuckled, tossing his locks like a wild cat before a kill. ‘Why yes, and it’s quite delicious.’
When the vampire’s gaze slid to me, Rebel hurled himself at the bastard with a growl.
Snake Bite sidestepped, hooking his arm around Rebel’s throat and slamming him against the boot of the Range Rover. Silver slashing shanks shot from his fingers like claws. ‘You see, you may have forgotten your toy, but I always have both my weapons.’ When Snake Bite grinned, his fangs grew longer.
I gasped.
A flash of silver, a tumble of black, and Rebel being pulled into a side alley by a bloke with tattooed birds exploding across his face…
Rebel had saved me from a vampire that first day.
Evie had a point: behind these glasses, I was blind. Because I’d abandoned Rebel, both on that first day and to Da in his bedroom. Just as now every screaming, straining nerve begged me to run.
But there was no way I was bailing on Rebel, even if I hadn’t been bound to him by Ma’s magic.
Not again.
Go visit some Feathery realness on that Fang!
You told you me to dump the angel before. If I’d played your game, he’d be the prisoner to the spell lobbers. And what would I be?
Free. But you’re showboating, Violet-cakes, you want every man at your feet and every woman in your shadow. Secrets all revealed like candy.
This isn’t my battle. I’m not a trained huntress yet.
The vampire sank his artificial steel fingernails into Rebel’s shoulder, pinning him against the car.
The slashes across Rebel’s chest? One mystery solved.
This is your move: fight or hide.
Snake Bite licked up Rebel’s neck, nibbling his ear. Rebel shuddered.
For all I know the vampires are the heroes. Rebel’s bad, yeah?
And I’m Jiminy Cricket, the voice of your conscience.
Rebel flapped his wings with a sudden, brutal crack across the vampire’s suede jacketed back.
Snake Bite howled, his claw grip loosening, until Rebel wrenched away, diving beneath the vampire.
I was mesmerized by the savage beauty of the dance.
Rebel spun, his eyes burning as fiercely as his wings, and swept Snake Bite in a blur of suede and black to the drive. His wings that’d been soft and welcoming to me, were now as hard as the vampire’s steel nails.
You have a choice. Are you on the side of the angels or the vampires?
How do I know, when I’m half of each? I’ve only been prisoner of one side, maybe I shouldn’t choose either?
I stood stock-still, whilst they grappled at my feet.
Then claws slashed across Rebel’s bad wing. A line of red fire. He hissed.
Blood had been drawn on Rebel’s wing. It hit me harder than I’d reckoned possible. A volcano erupted inside me in a searing ash cloud.
To hell with who was the hero or the villain. To hell with games. And to hell with choices.
Rebel was mine, whether I’d chosen him, or the newly awoken powers within me had. And if he was a hunter, then so was I.
I stepped mechanically to the Range Rover, snapping off the steel antenna.
Swish — it whipped through the air like a cane.
I gripped it in my sweaty palm. The two bitches didn’t even glance up.
Their mistake.
This was the god-like moment, when you held life in your hands. I was light-headed from the punch of potency curling the ash in black tinged clouds.
Then I skewered the vampire through the heart.
I didn’t expect the chortle.
Snake Bite glanced back over his shoulder at me, the antenna sticking out of his back like a fashion accessory gone wrong. Rebel lay subdued under him, his wings beating feebly.
‘I would say I’m surprised by how badly trained you are, monster,’ Snake Bite gritted his teeth as he plucked the antenna out of his back and then tossed it into the bushes with a patronising smile, ‘but then when I see who your Custodian is…’
Rebel frowned. ‘We’re not in your computer game, princess. You can only kill these ball-bags by destroying their idiot heads.’
I dove into the bushes, wildly scrabbling for the antenna. Skin was grazed from my palms, and my knees smarted as I sank down onto the twigs. A branch thwacked against my cheek; I flinched at the sting.
At last, my questing hand closed around cold steel. It fitted, as well as any shank.
When I marched back to the vampire, he still had Rebel pinned to the ground. He licked his tongue over his lip piercings and jabbed a claw into Rebel’s wing.
Rebel writhed, gritting his teeth not to holler. There were scarlet holes patterning his wings; Snake Bite had been using him as a pin cushion.
Then I swung.
The antenna sliced into the back of the vampire’s head. He grunted and tried to stand, but I swung again.
Snake Bite grabbed hold of the gory end of the steel and yanked. I stumbled forward, but Rebel launched himself upwards, headbutting the vampire. Snake Bite groaned; his grip loosened.
I wrenched back the antenna, and then swung again, and again and… I was nothing but a blur of swishing steel.
The vampire fell on top of Rebel.
Beneath me was a mess of smashed skull, matted black hair, and crimson blood, sprawled over Rebel’s wings.
My land of bones and feathers had scuttled into the real world.
I dropped to my knees, hurling down the sticky red antenna.
Then I chucked up.
Rebel struggled out from underneath the body, slipping his leathers back over his wings. ‘That’ll do it,’ he glanced down at the vampire. ‘That was brilliant!’
I wiped the spittle from my chin.
The bondage punk bounced on his toes like we’d been to a rave not a murder.
‘If you’re my Custodian,’ I gasped out, ‘I want to be taught how to hunt. But also…how to control…myself.’
To my surprise, Rebel nodded. ‘I was a dope. You’re ready to become a hunter.’
He opened the velvet pouch that Ma had hung around his neck and scattered the herbs over Snake Bite’s body. Like a ciggie held to a lighter, the edges caught to embers. The vampire’s hair flamed, his coffee coat and soles of his boots curled to black, and his insides tumbled to ash. In a matter of moments, his corpse disintegrated to a stain on the ground.
I caught Rebel’s arm. ‘Hold it, punk boy, why didn’t we spray this acid Hackney style at the bastard?’
‘It doesn’t work on the living. Only the dead.’
I scrunched up my nose. ‘And vampires aren’t dead?’
Rebel gave me a long look. ‘I told you. This isn’t your game. And vampires…aren’t what you think.’
If I was truly half vampire, then I hoped that was true.
A powerful, ancient monster burnt to nothing.
I’d done that. We’d done that. Simply because he was a vampire.
I shifted uncomfortably.
Snake Bite had called me a monster. And he was right.
The cane swung like a hypnotist’s watch — back and forth — from Da’s hand, as he waited for Rebel and me to creep into the study. He perched on the edge of his desk, his leg swinging in time with the cane.
I squinted through the shadows. Star-shaped lamps shimmered around the corners: a sultan’s tent.
Da’s face was drawn, and for the first time I noticed tiny wrinkles radiating from the edges of his eyes.
No way had the bastard earned those through laughter.
‘Close the door,’ Da fixed Rebel with a hard stare, ‘you took…her…away from our protection without my permission. Why?’
Rebel clicked shut the door with a sigh. ‘We’re not sprogs to be protected. You trained me to be a hunter, and Feathers had to see.’
‘So, did she?’
‘Yeah, bro,’ the vampire with black hair and eyes – like mine – leaping panther-like onto the back of the car, his fangs at Rebel’s pale throat, and then burning into nothing but ash, ‘I saw.’
‘I’m delighted. Then you can also witness Rebel’s punishment,’ Da gripped Rebel’s arm, propelling him towards the desk.
Except this time, Rebel stuck his heels into the sheepskin rug: a lamb refusing to be dragged to slaughter.
Da tutted, swinging the cane arcing towards Rebel’s arse, but Rebel reached his hand behind him and caught it with his palm. With an effortless flick of his wrist, he twisted the evil length of cane out of Da’s grip.
Crack — Rebel snapped the thick wood over his leather encased knee. Then with a clatter, he sent it skittering over Da’s wolf and fox oak desk.
It was easy to forget how strong he was and how much he fought to control that strength. I craved to have the same self-discipline when the rages roared.
In the silence, Da gawked at him.
‘I don’t need your lessons now,’ Rebel never dropped his gaze from Da’s. ‘I’m after being a Custodian myself, with my own student.’
I smirked. ‘Harsh.’
Da raised his hand, and my smile died.
That’s all bastard men knew: how to dash, beat, and shank.
But Da only pulled Rebel close, stroking his wings with a whispered, ‘I’m proud of you.’
It gutted me, those tender words, more than the clout I’d been expecting.
Maybe because I’d never heard them.
Maybe because I’d always dreamed I would from someone, whilst lying to myself I didn’t care that I never had.
Maybe because I reckoned I never would.
When Rebel yelped, I found myself raising my fists, ready for a fight. Wanting one.
Needing one.
Da, however, only held up a dove-grey feather, which he’d plucked from the tip of Rebel’s wing. ‘Good god! I had no idea you were this close. You must go back to Angel World. I know the brutality of your life there but—’
‘That’s bloody blarney. You don’t know.’ Rebel’s distress shocked me. His arms curled around Da’s neck.
Da rubbed Rebel’s back. ‘But if you don’t return—’
‘I can’t,’ he shot me a look through tear-trembling eyes.
Rebel had fled persecution. A bird cage prison. I knew that, but not why he looked to me as he said he couldn’t go back to his home. Or why he wept from fear.
At the same time, I craved to rip him from Da and punish him for taking comfort in someone else’s arms.
For keeping secrets again.
What unknown terror was held within that dove-grey feather?