Vampire Shift

"Is that the last of them?" Murphy asked, and I watched him wipe Rom's blood from his chin with his forearm.



Still turned away from Rom's remains, I couldn't bring myself to look, Potter strode forward and said, "Phillips' body is over there."



"It's not," I told him, as he ran his tongue over his lips, mopping up the red gunge that was there. "I saw Taylor fly away with the body."



Luke came towards me, but didn't make eye contact, and I wondered if he thought I was repulsed by him for what he had just done. In a way I was, but I understood the reasons why. Rom and the others weren't like Luke, Murphy, and Potter, and if they hadn't been destroyed, then they would've only continued to feed off humans and create more vampires. So understanding his shame, I went to him and took his hand in mine. I wanted to let him know that my feelings for him hadn't changed.



"This isn't good," Murphy said, picking up his shirt. "We should've destroyed them all."



"Do you want me to go after him?" Potter asked, lighting another cigarette.



"No," Murphy said, arching his back, which made an audible cracking noise. His wings shrunk back beneath his flesh and he pulled on his shirt. "It will be dawn soon and we need to get rid of any remains. We also need to make sure that all of those vampires have been destroyed."



Pulling a cigarette lighter from his pocket, Potter flipped it on. Waving the flame in front of his face, he looked at Murphy and said, "The usual way?"



Nodding, Murphy buttoned up the front of his shirt and put on his police jacket. Then turning to look at Luke, he said, "Take Kiera back to the Inn and get back here as quickly as possible and give us a hand in sorting this mess out."



"But I want to stay," I said.



"No," Murphy insisted.



"But -" I started.



"Constable Hudson, despite everything that has happened, I'm still your sergeant," he growled," and I'm telling you to get out of here."



Before I'd the chance to say anything back, Luke had wrapped his arms around my waist and I felt myself soaring upwards. Looking down, I could just make out the outlines of Murphy and Potter as they walked towards the church. Then they were gone, hidden by a cloud. With the wind whistling through my hair and Luke's wings beating slowly up and down, we rose over The Ragged Cove. To be so high above the town felt tranquil and my shredded nerves started to soften. Luke pulled me close and it felt as if I were being carried away by an angel. Circling around in the sky, we soared through the clouds and began to lose altitude. From above, I could see the town stretched out before me and it looked peaceful and somehow beautiful with its ragged coast line, white beaches, and miles of woodland. Looking down at it, it was hard to believe that the tiny town had hidden such nightmares. Then in the distance, like a giant torch, I saw St. Mary's steeple raging with fire.



Landing a short distance from the Inn, Luke uncurled his wings from around me, but didn't let go.



"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft and caring.



"I'll be fine," I told him, looking up into those bright green eyes. Holding me against him, he brushed his cheek against mine, and I could feel the tingle of his black stubble.



"I'll come back," he whispered in my ear.



"You'd better," I whispered.



"Tonight," he said. "Once we've taken care of everything back at the church."



"What about the others?" I asked.



"The others?" he said, looking down at me.



"Rom said there were others just like him," I reminded Luke.



"Later," he said. "Murphy will know what to do."



"Come back then," I said, not wanting to let him go.



"In a flash," he smiled, then pulling me close again, he kissed me. But this time it was different. His previous kisses had been soft, but these were urgent and had a passion that I could only describe as bordering on hunger. Kissing him back, I matched his intensity and a wave of deep desire washed over me. Not wanting to break the spell, but not wanting to lose myself either, I pulled gently away from him. Staring up at him, I said, "Later."



Smiling, Luke arched his back, and spreading his jet-black wings, he was gone. Turning towards the Inn, I heard the sound of a thunderclap way off in the distance.



Roland was behind the bar and was drying some beer glasses with a filthy-looking towel. Seeing me step in through the door, he rushed over.



"Kiera, you look awful," he said, sounding concerned.



"Thanks," I half-smiled.



With his pink-coloured jowls flushing red, he said, "I didn't mean it like that." Then looking me up and down and noticing the dried vampire blood on my clothes, hands, and face, he added, "You look like you've been to hell and back, my poor dear."



"You don't know how close to the truth you are," I told him, feeling the first aches and pains of my adventure.



"Why don't you go and freshen-up?" he smiled. "I'll bring you up a nice warm mug of coco and something to eat. You look half starved."



I could see the willingness to please in his eyes and I didn't have it in my heart to knock back his kind offer again. So smiling back at him, I said, "That would be really sweet of you, Roland. Thank you."



I watched him rush back to the kitchen, then I made my way up to my room. Wincing, I pulled off my clothes. I looked at my body and was shocked to see how many cuts and bruises covered it. Pulling on my bathrobe, I ran myself a bath. While I waited for it to fill up, I went and lay down on my bed. Listening to the water splash and tumble into the bath, I closed my eyes. I thought of Luke retuning later and a wave of nervous excitement covered me from head to foot. With my skin tingling at the thought of him touching me, I tried to push him from my mind. The feelings that I sometimes had for him scared me - but I think that's what I secretly liked - the fact that he could make me feel this way.



Remembering the events of that night, my mind kept returning to what Taylor had said. What had he meant when he told me that I was unique? We're all unique aren't we? But I knew he had meant something more than that. Then the voice of Rom entered my head as he told me that I could look for my mother but I might not like what I see. Those images of the hairs in Henry Blake's dead little hand swam back before me, followed by pictures of the hairs that I'd discovered caught in the teeth of the hairbrush I found in my locker - the locker I guessed had once been used by 'Jessica Reeves' - my mother. Had she really been at that crime scene? I'd accounted for everyone else that had been there. Taylor, Phillips, and the smoker. But who had that been? Not Potter as I'd thought - so who then?



The sound of tapping at my door dragged me from my thoughts. Pulling my bathrobe tight about me, I went and opened it. Roland stood on the other side, and I could hear his chest wheezing from his climb up the stairs. In his chubby hands he carried a silver tray. On it there was a steaming hot mug of coco and a plate of neatly cut sandwiches. Stepping aside, I waved Roland into my room.



"You're very kind," I said to him as he placed the tray on the desk.



"It's no bother at all," he said, turning around and looking at me. I noticed his eyes wander down, and following his gaze, I could see that my bathrobe had come open slightly, revealing my right leg up to the thigh. Feeling uncomfortable, I pulled the robe closed.



Sensing my discomfort, and without looking back at me, Roland shuffled towards the door and said, "Goodnight, Kiera."



"Goodnight, Roland," I said, closing the door behind him.



Crossing back to the table, I took a sip of the coco, and it tasted warm and sweet. Taking it with me into the bathroom, I turned off the taps. Fixing my hair into a bun at the base of my neck, I went back to my room and shrieked with surprise. Roland was back in my room, standing with his back against the closed door.



"What are you doing here?" I asked, gooseflesh crawling all over me. "I just want to talk," he said, looking at me. Pulling my bathrobe tight again, I said, "I really don't have time now Roland - I'm expecting a friend any minute." Stepping away from the door and coming towards me, he said, "What I have to say won't take long." Backing away from him, I said, "Please Roland, if you wouldn't mind saving this for tomorrow." "What I have to say can't wait until tomorrow," he said, unbuttoning his shirt. Realising that I was in serious trouble, I clenched my fists and shouted at him, "Roland, will you please leave my room!"   Pulling off his shirt and dropping it to the floor, he didn't take his eyes off me for a moment. His huge stomach was white, which made the wiry black hairs that covered it stand out even more than they should have. Once free of his shirt, his belly hung down over the top of his trousers like a mountain of white dough. Backing away towards the bathroom door, I looked for anything that I could use as a weapon against him. Glancing down at the floor, I could see that something had fallen from his shirt pocket as he had disregarded it. Screwing up my eyes, I could see that it was a pack of Marlboro cigarettes. Almost at once those flashbulbs went off behind my eyes and I saw snapshots of the base of the tree in the woods next to the body of the Blake boy. I saw glimpses of those cigarette butts left by the killer that had waited for the others in the woods.



As if to prove my visions and instincts right, Roland threw his head back and wailed like an animal in pain. Blinking to rid myself of those flashes, I looked at him. Roland's whole body wobbled, as two black wings grew from his back. Unlike the other Vampyrus wings I'd seen, Roland's were covered in a coat of greasy black hair. They glistened in the light from the desk lamp. Rolling his head forward, he looked at me, and I could see that where he had once had a neat row of yellow stained teeth, he now had a set of discoloured fangs.



"Surprised are you?" he asked, his voice low, like a growl. "Luke will be here anytime now," I threatened him. "Bishop doesn't scare me," he leered. "Murphy and Potter will be with him," I said, trying anything to get him to flee. Holding his belly with both of his meaty hands, he released a throaty chuckle. "Oh please, Kiera, you're really scaring me now." "You should be scared," I told him, my voice wavering. "I saw what they did to Rom tonight." "Rom?" he laughed again. "Rom was nothing compared to those that come next. We were sent just to pave the way."



"We?" I asked, now backed into the bathroom with nowhere to run or hide.



"Rom, Taylor, Phillips, and me," he smiled. "We are just mere disciples."



"For who?" I said.



"Roland!" a voice shouted from behind him.



He turned, and looking past him, I could see his mother standing in the doorway of my room. Her wrinkled-looking face and eyes seething with anger.



"Mother, this has nothing to do with you!" he barked at her.



"Enough Roland!" she screeched back. "Haven't you done enough damage?"



"It's only just starting," he said, turning back towards me.



Roland grabbed for me, and as he did, he was yanked sharply backwards, crashing into the wall on the opposite side of the room. Believing that Luke had arrived, my heart lept and I raced from the bathroom and into the bedroom. But he wasn't there, just the old woman and her son.



Getting up from the floor and flapping his wings in anger, he leapt towards his mother, landing inches from her. "Mother go back downstairs and do whatever it is you do and leave this to me."



Making her short height count, the old woman straightened her curved back and confronted her son. "For too long I've covered for you Roland," she said. "For too long I've sat back and watched you murder the innocent people of this town to satisfy your lust for their blood. But no more Roland - it ends tonight."



"I won't tell you again, mother," Roland shouted. "Now go back downstairs and mind your own business!"



"It is my business!" she spat. "We could've had a good life above ground. We had something good going here. But instead of going back under when the hunger was upon you - you gave into it. You're weak, pathetic, and I'm so ashamed of you."



'Mother..." he started.



"No Roland!" she screeched." I'm sick and tired of having to try and protect the good people of this town from the vampires you've created, and from you. For years now I've pushed those bottles of holy water and crucifixes onto the people of this town in the hope that it might protect them. But I'm tired of it, Roland. Please stop - if not for yourself - do it for me."



He looked into his mother's eyes and for a moment, I hoped that what she had said to him had made some impact. Then snarling, he said to her, "And you say I'm pathetic." Then knocking her to the floor, he turned towards me again. But before he had taken one step in my direction, his mother had sprung into the air, a faded set of black wings flapping behind her. Reaching for him, she clawed at his back and pulled him down. Roland rolled over, crushing his wings. The old woman lunged at him, but drawing his knees into his chest, he kicked out, sending her spinning across the room. She crashed into the wall, which shuddered and then cracked, brick dust showering the room. She hit the floor with a sickening thud, and I thought that she must be dead or at least have broken all the bones in her body. But no sooner had she hit the floor, than she was up again and racing towards her son. Screeching, she clawed at his face, and he covered his head with his large hands.



"Get off me, mother!" Roland roared.



"No more!" she screamed.



Flitting all around him, her delicate and fragile looking wings humming up and down, she struck out at him, a diagonal gash appearing across his face. Wiping the blood away with the back of his hand, his eyes shone black with hate for her. Launching himself from the floor, he smashed into her, sending her spinning across the room. Again she crashed into the wall, lumps of plaster spraying up from all around her. But this time, she looked dazed and stunned. Seizing his chance, he was upon her. Taking her head in his bulky hands, he twisted it sharply to the right.



"Sorry, mother," he said, which was followed by a cracking sound. She fell limp in his arms, her neck broken as easily as a stick of chalk.



Letting her drop to the floor as if she had meant nothing to him, Roland got up. Turning to face me he smiled, and said, "Where were we? Oh yes, I remember," and he threw himself at me. Crashing to the floor, Roland sat on top of me, his colossal weight, squeezing the air from my lungs.



"Don't kill me," I gasped, looking into his bloated face. "I don't want to kill you, Kiera," he said. "You're far too precious for that." "What do you mean?" I croaked. "You really have no idea, do you?" he said. "Didn't your mother tell you anything?"   "About what?" I mumbled beneath him, the last of the air leaving my lungs. Everything around me started to turn black and I fought to stay conscious. Just as I was about to pass out, the bedroom window exploded inwards in a shower of broken glass. I looked up in time to see Luke perched on the window ledge like a giant bird of prey.



"Get off her," Luke said, and I had never heard such anger in his voice before.



Glancing back over his shoulder, Roland said, "If I were you, I'd disappear back into The Hollows, boy. After all, that's what you're best at."



Without asking him a second time, Luke reached out with one hand, gripped the back of Roland's neck, and tossed him across the room as if he were nothing more than a paper kite. At once, I could breathe again and I sucked in deep lungfuls of air. Sitting up, I watched Roland crash through the wall that separated the bedroom and the bathroom. The wall crumpled into a pile of brick and plaster onto the threadbare carpet, and the ceiling above it sagged inwards as if it was going to collapse. Within seconds, Roland had sprung back into the room, brandishing his teeth.



Leaping from the window ledge, Luke snarled back and slammed into Roland. They locked arms, and threw each other back and forth across the room. Like wild animals they snapped at one other, their fangs ripping and tearing at each other's flesh. Scrambling out of their way, I huddled myself into the far corner of the room. Roland ducked under Luke's arm as he swung for him. Then with both hands, he thrust out at Luke, sending him crashing through the doorway into the hall outside. The door came away from its frame in an explosion of jagged splinters. Brushing himself off, Luke got up and raced back into the room. Jumping into the air, he shoulder-barged into Roland's chest, lifting him off his feet and sending him smashing through the window from which he had come. Pouncing onto the window ledge, Luke peered out into the dark.



Scrambling from the corner, I ran towards Luke. "Can you see him?" I asked.



Without answering me, Luke curled his arm around my waist and said, "Hold tight!"



Within moments, we were high above The Ragged Cove again, the howling wind and swirling snow all around us. Wrapping my bathrobe around me, I wished I'd had time to change. I looked at Luke's face and it was a mask of grim determination, as we flew upwards. Looking down, I saw Roland racing after us, his wings folded by his sides to give him greater propulsion.



"He's right behind us!" I shouted.



Tucking me beneath him, and arching his wings, Luke thrust forward. And then that sound came again - the thunderclap - which I'd heard so often before.



"What is that noise?" I asked, terrified of its deafening rumble and the vibrations it sent through me.



"It's a sonic boom," he shouted back.



A sonic boom? I asked myself. Could we really be travelling so fast?



Banking hard to the right, I clung to Luke, my arms and legs wrapped around him, as we dived away from Roland and out to sea. Then plummeting down, we rushed towards the black heaving waves of the ocean. Racing just feet from its surface, sea water sprayed out behind us like the waves caused by a speedboat, soaking my bathrobe and hair. Glancing back over my shoulder, I could see that Roland was just feet away from us. He snatched at the air, trying to take hold of me, but Luke twisted and rolled to the left and headed back towards land. Within seconds, jagged cliff faces were sweeping towards us. Believing that we didn't have enough time to change direction, I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth, readying myself for the impact. But it never came. Opening my eyes, I could see the jagged cliff face as were soared vertically up it.



Swooping over the top of it, I could see the burning steeple of St. Mary's in the distance. It was at least three or four miles away, but we were soaring above it in just seconds. We shot into the smoke and came to a sudden stop. The smoke was so thick and dark that I couldn't see more than a foot or two ahead of me. It was hot and choking. It filled my nose and made my eyes sting and water.



"Why have we stopped?" I sputtered.



"Shhh!" Luke hissed, looking quickly from left to right. "Here he comes," he said. Roland appeared in the smoke ahead of us, and he just seemed to hover.



"Give me the girl," he said, "and this will all be over."



"You want her?" Luke roared. "Come and get her!" Then he let go of me.



Screaming, I dropped like deadweight through the blistering hot smoke. "Luke!" I cried, unable to believe that he had let go of me. Looking down, I could see the seething flames of the burning steeple racing towards me. Glancing up one last time in the hope that it had been a mistake and I would see Luke coming to my rescue, all I saw was the gleaming yellow fangs of Roland as he lunged for me. Hoping that the flames would take me before he did, I closed my eyes and felt myself being suddenly yanked sideways, away from the fire. Snapping open my eyes, I was staring into the face of Luke. He kissed me, then threw me away like a rag doll.



"Catch her!" he roared, as Potter appeared from nowhere and caught hold of me.



Glancing back, I briefly saw the look of horror on Roland's face as he realised how he had been tricked. Having me snatched from his clutches at the very last moment, he had no time to slow his descent and he shot into the seething flames like a bullet. But to my horror, he grabbed hold of Luke and pulled him down into the raging inferno with him.



"No!" I screamed, kicking against Potter.



Holding me tight, Potter plunged towards the graveyard. Setting me down, I looked at him and shouted, "You've got to save Luke!" But he didn't seem to be listening to me. Instead he was looking up at the top of the burning steeple. With tears flowing down my cheeks, I followed his stare to see Roland shoot from the flames high above us. His wings glowed orange with fire and he spun over and over in the air as the flames consumed him. From the ground, I could hear his agonising shrieks, as he fought to put himself out. He fluttered left and right, until he finally fell still and dropped out of the sky like a blazing meteorite.



Pulling my robe about me against the freezing cold, I took hold of Potter's arm and shook it. I looked into his eyes and pleaded with him. "You've got to save Luke. He's in there!"



Then looking back at me, Potter said, "For someone who doesn't get excited, you're doing a pretty good impression." Stunned by what he'd said, I shook him again and screamed, "That's your friend in there!" Popping a cigarette between his lips, he smiled at me and said, "Easy tiger, we've got everything under control."   "Who's we?" I asked as Potter pointed over my shoulder. Spinning round, I saw Murphy sweep from the burning doorway of the church, carrying Luke in his arms. Racing towards me, Murphy landed and gently laid Luke in the snow at my feet. His wings were folded over him like a blanket. Tendrils of smoke rose from them as they smouldered.



"Will he be okay?" I asked Murphy.



"I don't know," he said, staring down at his friend. "I was in there as soon as I saw him fall into the flames. But the smoke and heat were so intense; it was hard to see him."



Kneeling down, I gently peeled back the edge of Luke's wings so I could look at him. His face was black with smoke and soot. With my lower lip trembling and tears running down my cheeks, I brushed his thick hair from his brow and kissed him.



"Wake up!" I pleaded with him.



Nothing.



"Please Luke," I sobbed. "You can't stand me up like this. We were meant to be having a date tonight, remember? I'm out here in the cold with nothing on except my bathrobe, my hair's a mess and my feet are freezing. Just take me home so I can get ready, okay?"



Nothing.



Then looking up at Murphy and Potter, I pleaded with them, "Don't just stand there, do something!" and for just the briefest of moments, I was sure I saw a flicker of concern in Potter's eyes.



"There's nothing we can do," Murphy said, and squeezed my shoulder with his hand.



Knocking it away not wanting to be comforted by him, I lent over Luke and hugged him, my body shuddering with grief. Kissing him, my tears fell onto his blistered face. Then, planting the softest of kisses on his beautiful mouth, I whispered, "I love you."



"I know," he whispered back, the faintest of smiles tugging at his lips.