NIGHT 14
I should be dead. I reckoned I would be. Two weeks ago? I’d have bet money on it: I was a dead man talking.
Yet life’s funny sometimes, or maybe nothing’s ever as simple as you think.
And I’m to believe you now? Why would that be, Light?
Because I’m here of my own freewill. Because every inquiry needs a conclusion. Because you and me? We’re the most unholy alliance of them all.
I’d have booted my own arse, if I’d even thought about joining forces with the Blood Life Council back in the day. But look at me now.
Here’s the thing: you adapt to survive – and I’m not ready for extinction.
Dramatic buggery, don’t you think?
Pure death sorted then? All records destroyed?
I didn’t think so.
Dramatic doesn’t even come close. With that CIE bint still in charge..? This is the beginning, not the end.
Tell me a story then this Easter night.
Make me believe.
It all started with simulated skin blood packets – miniature affairs – that could be taped over the heart. You’d be gobsmacked at the river of blood, which comes out of one of them, when a shiv gets rammed through. Still, I’d had to burrow the blade deep enough to get the right reaction from Plantagenet – he wasn’t that good an actor.
I’ll never forget the flash of pain and hurt in those amber peepers.
As I said, Plantagenet is no Laurence Olivier, because in those moments when our lips had met..? The poor git had forgotten the caper, lost in the touch, taste and love.
Plantagenet was the one, however, who always insisted a leader had to sacrifice: he was right. Except the difference was, I reckoned a leader should give their own blood and flesh.
Bleed for their people.
And this time?
As Plantagenet had lain beneath me, still hard and panting, and so bloody broken?
I’d known it was Plantagenet who was bleeding out.
Of course, after the staged death, came the betrayal.
‘My goodness, he truly was listening. I’d have owned your fangs before now, if I’d realised how useful you could be.’ Captain arched his hands on the ebony desk, in his regimented front office, which was flanked by steel filing cabinets. Stress relief toys were lined like legal crack for executives across his desk: the sun yellow ball with smiley face was taking the piss. Everything smelled of new carpets and bureaucracy.
‘I can even sing the alphabet,’ the yellow face was freaking me out, ‘backwards.’
‘Precious. The thing I like best? I can make you sing anything I like.’ Captain snatched up a bendy man from his row of toys, fiddling with its legs. ‘Time is money you know; the Council doesn’t run itself. So..?’
‘Give over: you don’t run it either. Far scarier bastards than you fucked or fanged their way to the top.’
There went bendy man’s arms, as Captain twisted them all the way behind his back.
Captain gestured at the black masked freaks with their guns at my elbows. What did they reckon I was going to do? Make a run for it through the office’s high glass windows into the sun?
A colossus nudged me with a shooter’s snout: like I needed it spelling out. Or another bullet hole.
‘He still thinks he can act the hard man: how sweet. I shall endeavor to find a solution for that. I’m ever so good at taking down fellows, who consider they can simply swagger through Blood Life like they did their First: as if they’re legends. Is that what you believe, Our Light?’
Uncomfortable, I looked down. ‘I don’t believe in legends or myths.’
‘Excellent,’ Captain slammed his brown brogues – bang, bang – onto the shiny surface of the desk; the smiling yellow face rolled off, bouncing until it stopped against my foot, ‘because I make it my duty to slay legends. I cut them down to size. Too long have the old dominated; now I reduce mythic Blood Lifers from ancient bloodlines to sniveling cry-babies. Just like your file shows you broke when you were a slave. Would you enjoy being broken the same way again?’
I fought to keep my breath steady. I slouched, as I stuck my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket. ‘I’m not a masochist, mate. Don’t add me into this new world of yours. You came smashing into our lives; we were simply getting on with it. Staying in the shadows. We were hidden from…everything. No one saw us. Then you kidnap my family and send me on a mission to find the leader of the Renegades or do them in. So – job done.’ I started to slide out the disk from my pocket but then I heard fingers easing onto triggers. ‘How much of a daft berk do you reckon I am?’
Captain gave a smug smile, before gesturing to his guard dogs.
Click – I breathed out.
Captain waved me towards him, but instead I chucked the disk at his nut.
Captain fumbled, dropping the disk onto his lap.
I chuckled – for about three seconds – before Captain signed for his minion to punch my lip bloody.
I licked my lip and then chuckled again.
Snap – there went Mr Bendy Man’s neck. Captain hurled it against my chest, as if his toy’s death was my fault. Captain smoothed his hair, before slipping the disk into his computer. Then he pulled a face. ‘Sweets, if I wished to watch your homemade porn, then I’d…’ Suddenly he peered at the screen with comical urgency. ‘Plantagenet? You’re doing that with Plantagenet?’
‘Hope so, else I was truly bladdered and went home with a stranger by mistake.’
Captain’s leather chair squeaked, as he shoved himself up. ‘Let me make myself clear: are you in bed with the Magnificoe of your bloodline?’
Something was off here: it was shadowed in my memory. Something Captain had once said about Plantagenet – or the bloodline.
‘Why’s that a surprise? He was a slave.’
‘I was not aware.’
I frowned. I’d been right that there were scarier bastards than Captain – and they’d been the ones to hand over Plantagenet to Blake. The CIE bint had called Plantagenet tribute from the Magnificoes, but where had Plantagenet been before that?
Ruby had kept her family from me until the ‘60s, and by then Plantagenet had been gone. Just how long had he been missing?
Captain had his nose pressed close to the computer screen; he was entranced. I didn’t blame him; Plantagenet had that effect. ‘I’ve only heard descriptions,’ Captain breathed, ‘but none do Plantagenet justice. I must have him. He’d be the greatest legend of them all; so beautiful when he broke.’
I was cold all over. ‘Shame that. You’re too late.’
Captain’s gaze flicked to me, confused. Then he saw the tiny me on screen raise the shank above the unwitting Plantagenet.
‘No!’ Captain shook the computer, like he could stop past me, flopping back into the leather seat in shock, as Plantagenet’s scream echoed tinny, and the blood spurted.
Captain turned an appalled look on me, as if I’d just stomped on a butterfly. I guess I had. ‘What did you do?’
‘One leader of the Renegades: dead or alive. That was it, right?’
‘He was..?’ Captain shook his nut, as if clearing it of monstrous thoughts. You wouldn’t guess the bloke had noshed his way through his entire family.
‘First I got grabbed and tested on at these research labs. Then I’m rescued; it turns out by the Renegades. Plantagenet? He’s their leader. Now I’ve kept my side of your blackmail, so you give me Donovan, and we’ll be on our way.’
Captain considered me, steepling his fingers. ‘Why? What does this prove? Except you’re a murderer: I already knew you’re a yob, and your files detail your penchant for familicide--’
‘Not exactly a penchant…’
‘But this latest? A Magnificoe? You’ll be answering to the Order of Electors over Plantagenet’s death. They’re hardly in the twentieth century, let alone the twenty-first. They have no place in our future, but one thing I’ll say for them: they will make you regret this. I only wish I could be the one to ensure that regret.’
I shrugged. ‘If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride.’
Captain lunged over the table. Security held me still by my arms.
Fair fight, then?
I tensed, but Captain’s Blackberry beeped. He paused mid blow to search through his messages.
Then Captain’s mush lit up. He tucked the Blackberry back in the pocket of his cargo trousers, before forcing open my gob and tracing over my teeth…one…at…a…time.
No way was I letting Captain defile my fangs again.
‘Three guesses who that was?’
‘Prince Harry?’ I garbled through his fingers, ‘Adele? Robert Pattinson?’
Captain wrenched his hand out of my mouth and slapped me hard across the cheek. ‘Wrong. It was a ghost.’
‘Didn’t reckon you believed in all that.’
‘I’m a convert – since Plantagenet messaged me and sent evidence you’re the Renegades’ leader.’
‘You’re lying.’
‘Maybe. It seems, however, that someone has betrayed you – Renegade. Oh joy! Now I get to break you again and I was so worried I’d have to restrain myself.’ Captain placed his hand – almost tenderly – over the print, with which he’d marked me. ‘I shall burn you. But first? Will come the dark.’
You gave yourself up to him? To us? Sacrificed yourself with a staged betrayal?
There was no Judas?
Got it in one.
Why? Such absurd--
Risk?
Stupidity.
You must’ve known Captain hated you more than most other Blood Lifers. I’ve heard the tale many times of your first encounter: how you cost him a fang. He believed you to be the worst of the posturing old bloodlines, suited only to be swept away.
And he’s tried now: twice. I’m still here. All that? It’s why I was perfect.
The CCTV of Plantagenet’s death would only get Captain’s attention, and me into his office. I needed something, which would excite him. Then he’d let down his guard, allowing me beyond into the heart of the Council.
Into the Red Room.
And that something?
Was me.
The Red Room’s not most men’s idea of entertainment. I understand that Donovan’s here too, but being trapped with him..?
Captain wouldn’t be able to help himself once he had me as a shiny new toy: he’d play with me, make an example out of me, and then break me to pieces.
In here - with you.
The Jade Spider.
Me?
You reckon I’m so daft I didn’t always know?
But why am I..? You can’t possibly have planned this whole rescue around me?
Power behind the throne: isn’t that what you were singing before? A bloke like Captain could never run a joint like this, not without serious backup.
The only thing I had to figure was whether you’d step out from behind the throne…and help us.
‘Why is Captain repeatedly messaging me about a disturbance on London Bridge? A…march? What in God’s name is this? ’
Liberty was gnawing on her long brunette fringe like it was some poor bastard’s jugular; that was one of her many tells. The bint didn’t reckon she had any, hiding behind a mask of cold efficiency, but I’d have cleaned her out at poker.
Liberty lobbed her Blackberry into her briefcase, along with copies of that night’s inquiry, before clicking it shut; the click was harsh in the hard shell of the Red Room.
I fought to keep my expression blank and still my tapping foot. Because tells?
Yeah, I had them too.
I swallowed, as hope unfurled its moth wings, fluttering in my guts.
Don’t let her cotton on yet…just a little longer…
Liberty’s jade peepers were assessing. She didn’t even need to speak to strip layers from my hide to wear as pretty looped necklaces.
Crimson. Scarlet. Red, red, red.
Every moment in that bleeding womb with Liberty, I’d been suffocated. Secrets Pied Piper danced from my tongue; I’d drowned in her.
I’d been fighting for my life with every word – every breath. From the very first night.
There’s a reason we fear spiders.
Suddenly pounding footsteps outside. The door yanked open. Womb torn bloody.
My cue.
I leapt over the desk, gripping Liberty around the neck.
Liberty had some balls though because she did nothing more than lean back, as if knowing I’d wanted a final, private word, allowing me to whisper, ‘That’s the bloody cavalry.’
Then there were hands clutching, hurting, ripping me away and slamming me against the wall, followed by a fist raised to smash across my mug. I glared Captain in the eye because this time when he duffed me up, it wouldn’t be in the dark, at gunpoint or through his elected.
Captain wanted to hurt me?
Let him be Blood Lifer enough to use his own fangs and fists.
The blow, however, never landed; Liberty had caught it.
Captain stared at her neat hand encircling his fist; his mug swelling with childish outrage to match the colour of the walls. ‘Liberty, will you allow me to…chastise the prisoner?’
Liberty squeezed.
Captain yowled, hunched over. When Liberty dropped his hand, he shook it, before hugging it under his armpit.
‘This is my room,’ Liberty smoothed down her black wool suit. ‘My rules. No violence, remember?’
‘No violence?’ Captain held out his bruised hand beseechingly; I only wished she’d snapped off two of his fingers.
Liberty smiled slowly. ‘Except by me. Especially when my inquiry session is interrupted on the final night before trial. It’s terribly irregular.’
‘Shall I show you irregular?’
Captain snatched me by the scruff of the neck, hauling me out into the busy Council offices. I could sense Liberty behind: a strong, quiet presence.
It made the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
Out here? It was bloody pandemonium.
Blood and First Lifers alike were rushing from office to office with the slam of doors, as if they were the ones set to be burned alive. Everywhere laptops, TV screens and iPhones blared out scrolling news.
I craned to see, but Captain dragged me on. I could earwig on snatches of conversation though… They’ve closed it all… He’s furious; they say he’ll eviscerate… Anarchy…
I couldn’t stop the grin: until Captain smashed me into the window.
The vast window, along the corridor to the heavenly blue room: witness to my weeks of dark and fire-scarred torture. Blink’s reward and Captain’s toy. A legend to be broken.
Now crushed against that glass, I looked out at the black jagged skyline and the cruel bright stars infinite above.
I heard Liberty’s sharp intake of breath behind me.
I wasn’t broken: I was legendary.
My name was Our Light: leader of Light’s Renegades.
And this was it – my rebellion.
Welcome to the Rebel Age.
You were waiting for the hope, weren’t you? And like all the greatest stories, it always comes at the end.
There was no traffic on London Bridge because the Renegades had come to take me home. There were no black cabs or taxis honking, as motorcyclists weaved between. No drably suited businessmen staggering tense and cocaine-eyed from the strip clubs and brothels. No pickpockets, junkies or bladdered clubbers with cheesy chips and kebabs.
Nobody.
Except my new family.
Trinity swaggered at the head of her First Lifer crew, mutt proud at her heels. The homeless from beneath the bridge liberated for one night to walk magnificent on top of it. They clutched torches, large and small; the arcs of light swung angelic, burning across the hell red bleeding beneath the bridge.
Kids, veterans, single mums and smackheads. It didn’t matter. They’d all donated blood to us Blood Lifers.
Me.
They were loyal to Trinity, and she’d voted in on the rebellion.
The first of my alliances. The second?
Aedan sauntered next to Trinity. He’d dressed for the occasion in a sharp russet suit, which matched his swinging braids. Trinity kept shooting him these glances, when he clung to her arm in excitement.
Yeah, not figuring on them plaiting each other’s hair in a girlie night any time soon.
Alongside Aedan?
The Lost Boys from Peter Pan’s – my Lost Boys now. Except from the moment we’d started working there, they’d been ours because Hartford had needed that. A new tribe to save and care for.
I caught a flash of Brendan’s neon green hair in the throng; Kyle’s determined mush was next to him. Even tiny Jamie.
Behind the dancers came the third alliance: Kallis and the Renegades.
They wore slogan t-shirts, with their declarations blown-up onto placards.
REBEL HERE, YEAH?
I’M THE BLOODY SUPERHERO.
YOU CAN’T FLAY A REBEL’S SOUL.
They waved the placards like grenades, as at their shoulders stalked the Blood Lifer slaves they’d rescued.
Alliance number four.
Mother led the Blood Lifers – if swaying from one to the other, licking and pawing was leading – dangerously in her element.
An army of tamed Blood Lifers? I shivered with anticipation.
I’d felt alone for so long – unloved. But here. Together?
Yeah, I wasn’t alone.
Because at the heart of the march was my infuriating, damaged, confusing family.
I knew they didn’t – couldn’t – love like I did. Maybe we all love to different degrees. I crave every ounce of love squeezed dry because I give every drop myself. But try and hate them as I did?
I loved them.
Because there they were, riding to my rescue. They were the true heroes.
They were my home.
Sun and Plantagenet were grasping onto each other’s hands like brother and sister on the first day of school: except I knew they were more than that. It was lovers marching to war, each afraid for the other. Maybe? They were thinking of me too. Maybe? They wished they were also holding my hand.
Fellah’s got to hope.
I had to take a second gander at Plantagenet.
Gone was that wankering white silk catsuit – the symbol of his slavery. He’d been transformed to the original Blood Lifer, and the bloke had style. A billowing ivory shirt over tight black trousers, with RAF leather coat to the bottom of his patent knee-high boots.
That was one cracking coat.
It was Hartford, however, glorious in cream linen suit and Long-lived radiance, who led the army. Even I quailed at his expression, as he swept along the center of London Bridge.
Hartford’s gaze raised to the Blood Life Council offices, never wavering. I wondered if he could see me. For a mad moment, I considered waving. Then I remembered the needle, venom…and the cage.
He couldn’t still be narked.
I studied the fire blazing in Hartford’s peepers.
He bleeding could be.
Yet even after I’d taken Hartford’s place on the pyre, he was here. With the courage to stand up and lead First and Blood Lifer alike.
Hartford stopped at the edge of the bridge; his gaze was still locked onto mine. I shook at its intensity. Then he nodded to Plantagenet.
Plantagenet spun in a circle, as he waved at Mother. All of a sudden, a black ripple of iPods, speakers and phones rose in the air, like machine guns at a protest.
A moment of silence, then “People Are Strange” rang out in the black in all its gothic joy. But no longer alienation because as every sod on that bridge sang along – Hartford’s bittersweet tones powerful underneath – we were joined.
Every one of us.
I noticed finally what my family had done: they had their fangs out.
I laughed.
This was the twenty-first century. There were no shadows or hiding, and this was my misfit rebellion: First and Blood Life united. No guns, just song.
And fangs. Mustn’t forget the bloody fangs,
We’d never be invisible – or silenced – again.
When Captain twisted my arm, I hollered. He hurled me across the corridor – clang – against the opposite glass. Echo and the Bunnymen rose from below, filling the narrow space and hanging between us three like a question.
I glanced down through the glass to the courtyard below.
There was the bonfire, with the stake and ropes to tie me all pretty ready to roast for Easter.
I twisted back to Captain. ‘Authority issues, mate. As in, I don’t accept yours. Now let Donovan and me go.’
‘The insolence,’ Captain’s shirt was skew-whiff. He pointed at me wildly. ‘You’re a terrorist, a disgrace and a--’
‘Music lover who also likes moonlit walks along the beach?’
Liberty guffawed and then tried to smother it.
Captain swung an outraged glance between us. ‘You’ve broken our most fundamental rule: you’ve exposed us to the humans. All of them. Every Blood Lifer worth their salt will want your head. This demonstration is already all over the Internet.’
‘It’ll be viral. Like us.’
Captain stalked closer.
Liberty was simply watching – like she always did: silent and calculating.
The singing below grew louder – like an unstoppable force – as Light’s Renegades advanced.
‘There’s a balance,’ Captain blinked rapidly, ‘but what you’ve done? It’s…this is the end of the world.’
‘Now that’s what I call dramatic buggery. The thing about the world? Traditions, rituals and rules? They’re bollocks. The world is changing, so we need to change with it. That’s what happens: it’s called life.’
‘It’s called Light. You chose this.’
‘I chose to allow all humans to deal with this new reality ‘cos the idea of the CIE making the decisions alone gives me the willies. Now we all know the score – First and Blood alike. And the others – the wild Blood Lifers? At least they’ll get fair warning about what’s coming.’
Captain bit his own lip so hard crimson beaded. He licked it away with one furious swipe of his tongue. ‘I don’t believe you’re on the same page as us, in fact you have the delusional notion you can rewrite the entire book.’
‘Sometimes a system becomes so bleeding corrupt – abuses so much power – that some poor pillock has to stand up and make it stop. Today that someone is me.’ I waved towards the window. ‘Oh…and several hundred others.’
Captain took one step towards me, his body vibrating from his jaunty strawberry blond peak of hair to his quivering knees. ‘Your nonconformity has ceased to be cute. If I can’t break a legend, do you know what I do?’
‘Send it home with a pat on the head?’
‘I snuff it out.’
Then Captain shoved. Not hard – for a Blood Lifer. This building, however, hadn’t been designed for Blood Lifers.
Crack – the glass shattered in one long sharp line, before spiderwebbing out.
Then I was falling.
Funny how time slows, as your stomach lurches. They say your life flashes before your eyes: they’re wrong. I saw only two things as I fell.
Kathy in the heather at Ilkley Moor.
And Sun.
Her cold hands between mine, as caught in a bubble between past and present, we laughed in each other’s arms on Peter Pan’s dancefloor, whilst “People Are Strange” played and the organ rose to its crescendo.
I lived in that moment forever – one moment stretching on for eternity.
If I was going to die, then I’d die a happy bloke.
Because now there was no doubt or degrees.
I was loved.
So as I fell to earth, I smiled.
Suddenly something yanked my t-shirt. Rip – the cotton tore but it held. Then I was being hauled back in through the window.
I stumbled onto my mush. Breathing hard – facing second death and then life were both equally a shock – I stared up at Liberty.
Stronger than she looked that one.
Captain turned his astonished gaze on her. ‘Has the entire Council gone quite mad? I’m your Author. You don’t override my decisions--’
‘I think you’ll find I do.’
Liberty swept her black briefcase into Captain’s stomach. He doubled over – oomph - before Liberty drove him back to the missing glass panel, as if the briefcase was a battering ram. Captain’s heels hung precariously over the ledge.
‘Liberty…precious…’
‘I was never precious. None of us were.’
One push. Then Liberty let go of the briefcase.
Captain flailed backwards, windmilling into the night’s cold air; I wondered if his life flashed before his eyes? I imagine it was bloody but boring.
Then Captain was plummeting, as paper copies of the inquiry – my witness and secrets – fell like white tears around him.
Captain screamed, when he landed impaled on the stake in the center of the bonfire, which had been built to burn me. He looked like a spiked voodoo doll.
Even I winced; look what irony does to a bloke.
I shot Liberty an anxious look, as I bottom shuffled away from the window.
Was Liberty trying to hide a grin?
Bugger that.
I shoved myself up, crossing my arms in customary slouch. ‘Trial found me innocent then?’
‘You’re anything but innocent. The trial’s been postponed; the judge met with an unfortunate accident.’
One of the denim bints gestured at Liberty from the end of the corridor; I didn’t blame her for keeping Liberty at arm’s-length. She lobbed an iPhone at Liberty, who caught it and answered without once looking away from me, like a teacher who reckons if they do, they’ll miss the culprit spraying graffiti.
‘I see,’ Liberty arched an eyebrow, ‘Well isn’t that interesting? Thank you.’
‘New reality show? Spurs lost? Bloody hell, the boy band you’re crushing on aren’t breaking up?’
‘Downstairs. It seems your Renegades have delivered a gift.’ I frowned. A fortnight I’d been playing this and for the first time I was off script. ‘Something wrong?’
‘I just got to watch Captain staked on my bonfire in a sea of my words. Everything’s tickety-boo.’
Liberty studied me narrowly. Then she nodded. ‘Follow me.’
The rest of the Council was in the same palaver as the previous offices; you’d reckon an apocalypse had broken out. Word of coups spread fast in dictatorships; these toadies were fawning over Liberty like she was the new messiah.
The pine crate rested at an angle across Captain’s bland office: this was the gift?
I stumbled to a stop in the doorway, but Liberty didn’t seem to notice. ‘From Your Sun Girl,’ she read from the pink Post-it note, which was stuck to the front.
I knew that crate: it was identical to the one I’d been delivered in to Grayse from Abona, when I’d been nothing but a slave picked by a slaver’s daughter.
It was everything I hated and feared.
It was the dark and nightmares.
It wasn’t part of the plan.
They’d been holding hands. Plantagenet and Sun. Like Sun used to hold my hand.
Please…please…don’t let Sun have betrayed me. Not now. Not like this. Any way but this…
To my shock, I realised Liberty’s arms were round my shoulders and she was calling my name. ‘Light, Light, Light…’
Two jade – concerned - peepers were scrutinizing me.
I pushed back from Liberty, before prowling to the enemy of my peace of mind. Then I sank my nails into the soft wood and ripped.
The wood smashed against the far wall.
Blake – starkers – was struggling against the red nylon ropes at his wrists, ankles and neck.
Red nylon – nice touch that.
Blake was shouting threats through the white catsuit, which had been used to gag him.
‘Shouldn’t mumble; I can’t make out a bleeding word,’ I patted him on the cheek, before turning to Liberty with a smirk. ‘One leader of the Renegades.’ I pointed at Plantagenet’s bio ring, which had been forced (and sodding hell did that look painful), over the purple head of Blake’s cock. ‘Even decorated. You want your trial still? After what’s happened today on London Bridge, I’m reckoning the Council will believe a human could be our equal or more than prey.’
‘Maybe,’ Liberty considered me and then Blake. ‘This is the bully who subjugates our kind?’
I nodded.
A cold smile crept across Liberty’s mush; I shivered. ‘I shall enjoy this fresh inquiry. Very much.’
Blake began to truly holler then – but not threats.
‘Shh,’ Liberty leant over the crate. Her finger traced Blake’s lips softly, whilst her other hand..? Let’s just say Blake’s not a daft berk: he got the message. ‘You see,’ Liberty stroked Blake’s hair, ‘it’s all in the training. Punishment and reward.’
When Liberty straightened, I caught her eye.
‘Guess that’s us all paid-up? How about honouring Captain’s promise? Give me Donovan and let us go.’
‘You’ll be wanting Will too..?’ Liberty’s cool look was amused.
I took a step back. My arse knocked off that bastard yellow face – he bounced leering up at me.
‘I am the Jade spider. Do you think I played no part in this game of ours? Pet was without doubt the same boy you waxed lyrical about: he could barely be without you, as you could without him. The beatings Pet took for inattention… He was lost without you.’
Crack – the edge of the ebony desk snapped under my clawed hands.
‘Not helping.’
‘Captain took him from the research facility, after you and the Renegades rendered it worthless. For now at least. Captain delighted in playing with humans, except they broke too fast. There were a number of young human subjects at the labs.’
That black bag?
It hadn’t been Will.
In my tortured, helpless state, seeing Will and being unable to save him, I’d buried him in my grief-stricken panic.
Love - it can do funny things to a bloke and love for the First Lifer destined to be born of your fangs..?
You’d suffer torture. Die for them. Resurrect yourself just to offer the sacrifice a second time.
You’d destroy worlds.
When I’d first seen Pet and known – Christ in heaven – my Will is alive… Yet he was bleeding out, sliced open for me, and I had to drink from him..? I’d nearly blown everything.
Because family make you weak.
Instead, I’d decided to leave Will to Captain’s cruelty – in the heart of the Blood Life Council – for two weeks, treating him like a stranger.
It’d seared worse than the white phosphorous.
I’d hoped Will would cotton on to the game, however, because I’d trusted him, like he trusted me.
If Captain had ever realised who Will was to me? If Blink had told him? If Liberty had grassed?
Captain truly would’ve owned me.
He could’ve ended the rebellion at a word.
I would give up everything to keep Will safe. Yet neither Blink nor Liberty had used that, and I didn’t know why.
Will was a bright kid. He’d played the game, and that flamed me with pride.
I tilted my nut. ‘Will’s coming with me.’
‘I’ve become fond of Pet,’ Liberty brushed at her fringe, as if imagining it was Will’s fingers caressing her, ‘he’s like a foul-mouthed cherub. I’d considered keeping him for myself, and to bleed for picky eaters – like you – as well as political leverage in our future dealings, of course.’
‘You know two weeks of my darkest secrets. All I’d suffer and the extremes I’d go to for my own. Do you want to unleash that on your own head?’
Liberty backed towards the filing cabinet, as she swung the door wider. ‘That’s why I’ve decided…’
An explosion of dusty blond curls burst across the room and into my arms; Will clung so tightly I could feel his heart – beat, beat, beat – next to mine. His quiet sigh.
This time I hugged Will just as tightly as he held onto me.
Then Will drew back. ‘Angel of Light,’ he stared at me like I was sodding...life. I blinked away tears, when I noticed the tramlines of white scars down his arms. That was because of me; I’d suckled there, lapping up his blood. I’d fed on him: I’d made him prey. Will softly touched my cheek. ‘It ain’t no thing. You’re safe, remember? All that matters, innit?’
Little git was trying to make me blub. I caught his wrist. ‘But how..?’ A green bracelet – two entwined greens knotted together in an eternal snake – was wound round his wrist. ‘The wankers cut it off.’
Will smiled shyly. ‘Blink gave me the threads. Been making it ‘cos I done know you lost yours.’ He attempted to look stern, as he slipped it off his wrist onto mine. I couldn’t stop staring at it: resurrected and green against my pale skin. I’d never take it off again. ‘I ain’t making another.’
‘I’ll be sure to look after it better, little man. But Blink..? Didn’t he…hasn’t he been..?’
‘He’s my mandem. He stopped his rents from, you know…’
‘Captain?’
‘Blink ain’t be letting him hurt me, least not when he was there. The thing about Blink? He just never gets how things feel. So I tell him how the world don’t feel so bad. We be tight now.’
‘Good for you.’ I wondered if I was allowed to veto Will’s mates from now on.
I slipped my arm around Will’s waist, and he let me, as I steered him towards the door. When he didn’t even comment on the starkers bloke in the box, I felt a twinge of guilt.
I guess Will had seen a lot worse behind the scenes in the Blood Life Council.
When I’d first noticed Will, I’d reckoned him innocent but then I’d learnt his innocence had long been stolen from him. Now? Because I’d hunted him, drawing him into our Blood Lifer world, he’d never know anything but darkness.
After tonight’s protest on London Bridge, however, nor would the rest of the world.
‘You ain’t no bad man,’ Will nestled closer. ‘You know, from the song? Blink lent me his iPod so I could… I listened to our song every night. It was like we were together. I knew you were coming for me.’
‘Because it’s what angels do?’
‘‘Cos it’s what true fam…our fam do. And that be shabby, man.’
All those days I’d been desperate to speak one word alone – away from Liberty and the cameras – to let Will in on the caper: so he knew he wasn’t abandoned. And all that time? He’d had faith in me – more faith than I’d ever had in any one in Blood Life.
Christ I hoped I could live up to it; I was bleeding well going to try.
Donovan sauntered to join us at the wide foyer doors. He was resplendent in a purple velvet suit; Liberty must’ve planned that too. I suddenly wondered if the only reason Plantagenet had ever fancied Blake was because of his choice in threads. Blake had been nothing more than a wretched substitute for his lost love: Donovan.
Except Donovan wasn’t lost now; he was coming home.
It was hostage release day.
Hartford – my angel leading the rebellion, who was ready to martyr himself for Donovan, was waiting out there…along with the bloke’s greatest love.
‘Alright?’ I bumped Donovan’s shoulder. He grinned, as he bumped mine back.
‘Let’s split; this scene has been a drag.’
‘Couldn’t have said it better myself.’
I grasped Will’s hand on one side, Donovan’s on the other, and we strolled out of those glass doors to the fanfare of Echo and the Bunnyman and the whirr of news helicopters above, which were like furious fireflies, towards a sea of faces, as if candlelit at an Easter Vigil.
Blood Lifers thronged amongst the First: predator and prey. I tightened my hold on Will. And for the first time? I realised what I’d done.
I’d cracked the world to save my family.
I didn’t have a scooby what came next.
Yet after a fortnight trapped in artificial red and blue – worse coffin black – I stared up at the silent stars; their infinite freedom reached as far as any bloke could dream. Then I roared with a predator’s victory: we’d done it.
We’d only sodding done it.
When Hartford saw me, a spark of rage blazed across his mush (so no hope the venom and cage had been forgiven and forgotten then), but fizzled out the second he clocked Donovan at my side.
A cream blur – then Donovan was swept up in Hartford’s arms. Hartford’s voice burst loud in joyful song, as he spun him round in the Charleston. Donovan laughed, clinging to Hartford.
They’d both been brought back to life; it was never the blood but love. Inside Abona? As slaves they’d needed each other. Out here? They needed each other just as much.
Icy fingers slipped around me from behind, teasing up my t-shirt and sliding over my shivering skin. They edged down towards my jeans, slithering under. I yipped.
‘The frickin’ fried thing? I forgot. It was, like, the new power, scents, drives and sensations were making me into someone different. It was wicked frightening to lose everything and feel changed: a whole notha species. I got confused on account of I love Plantagenet too. But I forgot,’ Sun nibbled my ear, her teeth drawing blood, but on my gasp, licking over the marks, ‘I’m still your Sun Girl, and that’s my choice.’
I hadn’t reckoned on hearing that again. Not said in that way. Not from Sun.
I could’ve danced – like Hartford and Donovan – right there in front of the Council’s glistening glass monstrosity. I beamed. ‘Still waiting to be scooped here.’
Sun dragged me round so fast and hard, I was pulled off my feet; I was flying. She was cradling my cheeks, like she was terrified I’d slip away – or fight her. But she’d already conquered me.
I was nobody’s slave, yet I belonged to Sun, even if she’d never be mine.
Then Sun was snogging the life from me.
At once I was back in the bubble, which had embraced me as I’d fallen – caught in Sun’s arms in Peter Pan’s. My perfect moment for eternity. I didn’t know where fantasy ended and reality started.
Until I felt a tug and realised I was still holding Will’s hand.
‘Work that nice!’ Will winked.
I struggled to untangle my tongue from Sun’s. Then tug my lips back. Her hands still held my cheeks tight. Embarrassed, I squirmed, as if I was Will’s dad caught out in some hanky panky. ‘Oi, none of that, little man. Angel’s don’t like… Sod it.’
This time it was me snogging Sun. Stroking her soft hair like I’d craved to do when she’d sprawled with Blake or Plantagenet. Hoping that even if she didn’t want to hear the word love, then she’d feel, taste and remember it in the kiss.
Sun smelled of…gardenias. Freedom – and our love.
At last, I drew back, and Sun let me. Bugger being caged. I was saying the two words, and she was going to hear them this time. ‘I love you.’
Sun scowled. I looked down. Then I felt her finger under my chin, however, lifting it, until our gazes met. ‘I love you too, Light.’
And that was all the hope I’d ever need.
‘Well-beloved, we are merrily met,’ Plantagenet looked like a panther freed into the wild. And up close? I was beginning to have coat envy. In the dark Plantagenet’s golden peepers were twin fires. ‘Here are your Renegades to command and charge – and I too.’
‘No, mate, you’re free. No bloke’s commanding you again.’
Plantagenet gave a quick nod, before he turned towards Donovan.
Even though I knew it was coming..? I still cringed.
As it’d been with Sun at the beginning, it was like the world (and Hartford with it), had fallen into darkness for Donovan. Nothing existed but Plantagenet – his long lost lover, there was no doubting it.
Donovan wrested away from Hartford, leaving him midstep in his dance. Hartford broke off his song in surprise.
When Donovan threw himself into Plantagenet’s arms, I knew the routine: the silent snuffling, tender licking, fingers tracing the cheek and then…that gentle, intimate kiss. I could taste the oranges.
Donovan was draped around Plantagenet, as if Plantagenet was pure blood and Donovan was overloaded on him alone.
It was painful to watch because…Plantagenet…the blood…called to me as powerfully.
I was an addict too. No point denying it.
Seeing another in my place? It was like Plantagenet was shanking me through the heart.
Then I had a shufti at Hartford’s mush: I wasn’t the only one who was being heart-shanked. I understood the loss. Except for Hartford? It was a thousand times more bloody.
I tugged Will after me, as I edged over to Hartford; I was a sacrifice offered up as a distraction. ‘You can boot me in the goolies; folks seem to get their jollies that way. Or clout me in the nose; that’s also a popular choice.’
Hartford struggled to glance away from Donovan’s snog to me. ‘Tell it to the marines. I’m busy.’
‘I drugged and caged you. Must’ve pissed you off.’
‘What you doin’, man? He’s gonna switch on you.’ Will tried to haul me away.
When Hartford prowled towards me, I had to bleeding agree.
‘What you pulled? Double-crossing me?’ When Hartford reached out, I flinched. ‘Was nutty, screwy and…’ Hartford smacked me lightly on the cheek. ‘Just saved the fella I’m goofy over.’
I breathed out.
Plantagenet and Donovan were still at it. How did you make up for decades apart? It looked, however, like they intended to take a shot at it.
Even in front of an entire army, Hartford was alone.
I risked a manly pat on Hartford’s shoulder. ‘Families: love them one moment; want to rip out their throats the next. Yet you’d still battle to the last breath for them.’
‘Say, mac, you’re sounding dangerously like a Long-lived,’ Hartford’s features gentled, as he looked at Will. ‘It’s swell to see you too.’
Then Hartford grasped Will’s small hand – a First Lifer safe between two Blood – and we swaggered together towards our family, lovers, army, allies and Renegades – the start of a new world on that night-time bridge over the tongue of the Thames.
We saw the world. And the world saw us.
Betrayal, death, hope.
It’s how all truly great stories end too.
What comes next?
That’s where the bollocks vampire myths finish, and the age of the Blood Lifer legends..?
It’s only just beginning.
Need a conclusion to your inquiry?
I’ll never be ashes but I’m on fire.
My name is Light. Predator. Slave. Freedom fighter.
And I’m the bloody hero.