Darlings of Darkness: A Vampire Anthology Part 173

"Doesn't it hurt?"

She laughed without humour. "Like h.e.l.l. But it'll be worth it. So what the f.u.c.k are you then? What's all the fuss about? You have fangs; you must be closer to the change than me. d.a.m.n."

She actually thought I was like her. Sick to the stomach, I was glad when Peter returned.

"Ava, I have to go."

"Can I get up now, Petey? I'm sleepy." Becca's heartbeat was still slow. I almost felt guilty.

"Let's get out of here, Ava," Peter said.

I nodded. Becca couldn't be trusted. I picked her up, surprised by how easy it was, and laid her on the bed. She was already dozing off.

"Wait a second, Becca. Is Maximus coming after me?"

"He wants you real bad," she said dozily. "People in the day. Vampires at night. Someone's gonna get you."

"You tell Maximus to come get me himself. I'll be at the bookshop, you know, the one with the smashed windows." I was p.i.s.sed off, but her eyes had closed, so I wasn't sure if she heard me.

"Let's go," I muttered, avoiding Peter's eyes as we walked downstairs. "First thing I'm doing when this is all over is get self-defence lessons. I keep getting hopped on." I tried to laugh, but Peter didn't respond. I sniffed the air and bit my lip.

"I'm driving," I told Peter at the car. He didn't argue. That scared me more than anything. "Think she'll be okay?" I asked him, just to get him to speak.

"Who cares?" He moved to get in the backseat, but I stopped him.

"Wait," I said. "Carl, get in."

I looked up at Peter, almost too embarra.s.sed to speak. "Don't freak out, but your shoulder is still bleeding a little. It's kind of distracting, but I think I can close the wound. Will you let me?"

He hesitated, then nodded. I held him still and inched closer to his shoulder. His blood didn't call to me like Carl's did, but it was blood, so it was going to entice me in some way. I ran my tongue over the slow bleeding gash on his neck, feeling his pulse thud. He tasted a lot nicer than Becca, sweeter. His scent reminded me of cinnamon. I licked again and again, as the skin gradually knot itself together under my tongue. For whatever reason, I could fix him.

He pushed me away from him roughly. I realised then how close I'd been to him. We were both panting. Droplets of sweat rolled down his temples.

"I need a drink," he muttered.

Chapter Ten.

I followed Peter's directions and drove us to what turned out to be a tiny pub.

"You can't drive for s.h.i.+t," he mumbled under his breath as we left the car.

"It's been a while, okay?" My ex-boyfriend had taught me, but I hadn't driven since. "Isn't it a bit early for this?" I asked, more to distract myself. Since I tasted Peter, his cinnamon scent had overtaken my nostrils completely.

"Never too early for a shot after being fed on," he replied.

He knocked back four shots then chased them with a beer.

"Feel better yet?" I asked.

He glared at me. "I've been bitten by a human, watched you go into a little vampiric frenzy and almost kill someone, and then you licked me as if you wanted to..." His cheeks flushed red. "And, apparently, there are vampires and humans galore after us. What the f.u.c.k are we supposed to do now?"

"Well, we could get s.h.i.+t-faced drunk, or we could man up and deal with it," I snapped back.

"Option A it is," he said and ordered more shots. "Want one, Carl?"

"You can't give him alcohol!"

"Why not? Look at the size of him. He can take it."

"I dunno, it's like giving alcohol to a kid or something. Stop it!"

"You really need to lighten up," he said and downed another drink.

"What do we do now?" I asked him, trying to get him focused on reality.

"We drink. And if we're smart, we forget all about things that go b.u.mp in the night. Even if you're one."

"We have to do something, Peter."

"What we have to do is face facts. Life is s.h.i.+t, and then you die. Some of us sooner than others. And if you're really unlucky, some psycho b.i.t.c.h will bite a chunk out of your neck."

I tried to get him to focus-even catching him up on what Becca had said about the experiments in Spain, but he brushed it off. Two hours of constant moaning later, and he could barely stand. "That's it, we're going," I told him when he knocked a gla.s.s into my lap.

"Spoilsport," he muttered but followed me anyway. I hoped even he was fed up with his whining. Carl held him up long enough to make it to the car without toppling over.

"I'm driving, you idiot," I said, guiding him away from the driver's seat. "Both of you, in the back, now." I felt like a hara.s.sed mother, something I would never be. In the car, I drummed on the steering wheel. Peter had lost it. He was supposed to be this big hunter or something, and he couldn't deal with having his shoulder licked by a girl.

"My house," Peter said, slurring his words. "Safe." He closed his eyes and was soon snoring. It took me a long time to drive there. Not only did I get slightly lost, I was pretty sure a car was following us. I wanted to get it off our trail, so my driving grew even more erratic. Eventually, the car disappeared from the rear view mirror. I breathed a sigh of relief and tried to remember where exactly Peter lived. I wanted to be inside before anyone else came looking for me. I also needed to work out how to make sure Carl and Peter stayed safe if anything worse happened.

Both men were asleep when I pulled into Peter's driveway. I decided to work on Peter first seeing as it was his house. I figured one of the keys linked with his car keys would fit his front door. I struggled to help him out of the car, but once he untangled his legs from under the pa.s.senger seat, supporting him to his front door was fine. I felt strong, part of the after-effects of drinking Becca's blood.

One of the keys fit into the door, but no matter what I did, it wouldn't turn.

"Is there some knack to this or what?"

He looked at me blankly for a few seconds before pointing downward. A thin slot was on the bottom of the door. "Card key. Wallet," he mumbled and gestured to the back pocket of his jeans. I tutted and reached into his pocket, avoiding his eyes.

"Seriously paranoid," I muttered as I flipped open the wallet. I instantly paused because the first thing I saw was a photo of a smiling toddler with large hazel eyes, just like Peter's.

Peter snapped the wallet out of my hands and found the card key himself, his fingers shaking. He bent down to feed it into the door but fell over. I tried not to laugh as I helped him back up. He stumbled into me, forcing me back against the door. This time I held his gaze and listened when his heartbeat sped up. He smelled like stress and alcohol. It was hardly romantic, but n.o.body told the b.u.t.terflies in my stomach. He brushed my hair from my face with a surprisingly gentle touch.

"I don't get it," he said. I waited for him to elaborate.

"Peter?" said a woman's voice in a quizzical tone.

Over his shoulder, I saw a woman approach us. She was around thirty and beautiful, with very defined features and short, glossy, chocolate brown hair. Becca had been a fake, overly flirty piece of trash, but this one was three steps above me on the ladder and provoked an unfamiliar twitch of jealousy. Then I remembered the photo of the cute kid in Peter's wallet and put two and two together.

I side-stepped and distanced myself from Peter automatically. The woman glanced at me then back to Peter with the most disappointed look on her face. She called his name again, but he blatantly ignored her. Mortified, I figured my best bet was to move on quietly and leave them alone, so I tried to slip away.

"Where are you going?" Peter's voice was cold and brash.

I shuddered at the unpleasantness of his tone. "I'm going to get Carl. Make our way home."

"No, you're not. Go get him and come in."

His abruptness put my back up, but I knew he was right. We had to make some sort of a plan before the vampires woke for the night. I always knew when, that one point in time when they all collectively opened their eyes. It was the moment I became more alive too.

The woman raised an eyebrow. I glared at Peter before storming off.

"Wake up, Carl," I hissed, taking my frustration out on him. He took it mildly which infuriated me even more. I twisted the cross in my fingers as we hurried to the house. Night was going to come quicker than usual, I could tell.

The alarm went off as soon as I stepped past the hall door. I tensed, remembering the last time, but Peter was busy muttering in the corner. The sound stopped, and the crazy look on Peter's face disappeared. I shut the door behind me, wondering how long I was going to last with his mood swings.

He led us into the living room. The woman wasn't there.

"Where's your girlfriend gone?" I asked.

"Who? Oh, her. Home."

He turned his back on me and left the room, mumbling something about making a phone call. When he returned, he vibrated with anger, but at least he wasn't as hopelessly drunk.

"Maybe you should have a rest," I suggested.

"Can't. I spoke to Eddie. He contacted Daimhin's day a.s.sistant and told her he could hand you over to her."

"Day a.s.sistant?" I asked.

"Yeah, someone who does whatever needs to be done when she can't," Peter said.

"Why would someone want to work for a vampire?"

"Maybe she pays well. Hey, Carl, why don't you go fix yourself something to eat in the kitchen."

Carl pottered off. "Thanks," I said. "He needs to eat a lot, for a human."

"Whatever." Peter's dismissive tone forced me to realise we were back to square one. "Maximus is bound to turn up at Eddie's place again, so let's hope Daimhin's there when he does."

"They should just attack each other, right? n.o.body else needs to get hurt?" I didn't want to risk a human life just to pit one set of vampires against the other.

"Maybe, if we're lucky. Next problem is Arthur. You sure you want his help? Not getting attached to old Carl there?"

"I want him to go home," I said, surprised Peter had to ask. "He won't even tell me where he lives, so I can let his family know he's okay."

"Aren't you sweet?"

"Get over yourself, Peter Brannigan." I had about enough of his sarcasm for one day.

He held up his hands and exhaled loudly. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm just p.i.s.sed off at... everything. Let's forget it for now and concentrate on staying alive, okay?"

I shrugged, upset by his att.i.tude, and worrying he wasn't really contrite but was merely saving his angst for later. He pulled out a drawer in his desk and beckoned me over.

"You and Carl are going to take some of these, just in case. We may need to use them to take on Arthur. He's kind of fascinated by you; I don't think we'll need to threaten him. But just in case."

"Who are you, Buffy the Second Coming?" I said, running my hands over finely sharpened stakes, silver handcuffs and what looked like bottles of holy water.

"Hilarious. If we work together, we should be able to take Arthur without anyone getting hurt. Theoretically."

He took out two stakes, a couple of bottles of holy water, a pair of handcuffs, and a long, thick silver chain. "Keep these in your bag, and give Carl some holy water. It's the only thing he can't do something stupid with."

I stuffed the lot into my bag. "Thanks."

"I need some sleep. Do what you want until I wake up. Then we're off." He turned abruptly and headed up the stairs leaving me feeling cold. He had sobered up once his girlfriend had shown up, but then his mood had turned even sourer. I was sure he was in trouble because of my problems, and he didn't need any more.

I waited a few minutes, thinking things through, then headed into the kitchen. "You're going to make yourself sick," I told Carl. I sat down next to him. "I'm going to need your help tonight. Bad people are coming for us. Will you help me get one of them alone? He owes me a favour."

"Of course."

I gave him some holy water and wrapped a long silver chain around his neck. "Keep this on," I warned him. "If anything gets a hankering for your throat, this might put them off. And take this stake. I swear, Carl, if you hurt yourself with that thing, I'll kill you. Only use it against a vampire if you really need to, okay? Can I rely on you?"

He nodded, turning the stake over in his hand.

"Hide it in your sleeve or something. Like this." I helped him and carried on, suddenly feeling shy. "Carl, I know the real you is in there somewhere, and I'm guessing you know a little of what's going on. I wanted to say, I'm sorry, okay? All of this mess is my fault, and the only way I can fix it is by putting us in danger again. I don't know what else to do. It'll be over soon. I promise."

He was listening, but I wasn't sure he understood me exactly. I sighed and got to my feet. I figured I had given Peter enough time to fall asleep.

"Come on, we're going."

"Is Peter okay?"

"Yes, but he's staying here this time."

Carl nodded although he looked disappointed. We left quietly, making sure the door was closed securely behind us. I sniffed the air, scenting the faintest smell of blood, then moved on quickly with Carl.

"You sure you don't want to tell me where you live, Carl?"

"With you."

"Nah, I meant before that. Where's your family? I could let them know you'll be home soon."

He ignored me. I had a feeling he could resist the thrall in some ways.