Chapter Twenty-Six

  PAST THE OUTSKIRTS of Fosswell, the canopy of trees over the road grew denser along our route to Abertreath. I didn’t dare think about my destination. Memories of previous visits to the coastal town were happy ones. Our family used to take caravan holidays there, back when dad was alive and we had a bit of spare cash. Something told me my future memories would be rather more depressing.

  I watched the pale evening light flicker through gaps in the branches until it faded into darkness and a moonless night descended.

  I lost track of time. I didn’t care what happened to me anymore. All I could think about was Connor, and how he’d been there for me, again. And now he was gone. It was all my fault.

  Above me, the trees thinned, and interlocking fingers of cloud parted to reveal a glaring full moon, making the silhouettes of twisted tree branches look like the shadow monsters of my childhood.

  The car slowed. I guessed we’d arrived.

  The smell of the ocean wafted on the breeze. Huge iron gates creaked open, and the sight of a large stone-pillared gateway passed by.

  Carwick Castle dominated the cliffs at the north end of Abertreath. It was dark and foreboding. The high stone walls had stood for centuries and had seen many battles. The whole building could have been a film set for a fang-banging horror movie. Indeed, I remembered it being the setting on more than one occasion for a campfire ghost story. It was a steep, winding climb to the entrance before the car stopped.

  Tyron yanked me from the footwell and threw me at the waiting men. The circle closed around me, and they bared their teeth in anticipation of a tasty meal.

  “Straight to the dungeon with her. Touch her and I’ll kill you,” Tyron ordered.

  Their disappointment was clear. One of the men picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, and a couple of minutes later, I was brutally discarded into a waiting cell. The barred door slammed shut, and I turned to see my jailer securing the lock with a smug smile of satisfaction.

  “I’ll look forward to tasting you later,” he said, licking his lips.

  A moaning sound, followed by whispered pleas of mercy, came from somewhere to his left. I wasn’t the only occupant in these confining walls.

  “Quiet in there, or today will be your last. There’re plenty more where you came from,” the vamp barked before he vanished in a swirl of mist up the facing stone stairway.

  “Hello? Hello? Who’s there?” I called.

  I peered over to the cell diagonally opposite mine, sure that the sound had come from there. A faint rustling noise increased in volume, and a wretched-looking girl emerged from the shadows.

  “They…g-got…you…t-too?” she sobbed.

  Her clothes were torn and dirty, and her long blonde hair was matted in clumps. I squinted in the dim light of the dying fire torch, and only then did I notice the bite marks, all in varying degrees of healing, covering her skin.

  “How long have you been here?” I asked.

  “I…don’t know. I…came here for…for a hen party with my…friends. That’s where I met him,” she stammered.

  “Who? Tyron?”

  She nodded slowly. “H-he was so charming. I couldn’t resist. He brought me back…here. I thought he liked me, but…he just wanted us for food, for…them.” She began to sob again.

  “Us? There are more of you?”

  “My friend, Tina. She was here…with me, but they took her again last night, and she…she didn’t come back.”

  That didn’t sound good. Was I her replacement?

  “What’s your name?”

  “Kerry.”

  “Listen, Kerry. We’re going to get out of here, okay? Don’t give up. I have some very special friends, and they’ll be looking for me by now,” I said, praying that I was right.

  The cell stank with a musty, mouldy smell, worse than an old mop left damp and festering. The stone floor was scattered with straw, and a tatty, stain-covered blanket lay on a pile of it in the corner. There was a small opening high in the outer wall, and I balanced my foot on a protruding stone to climb up and peer through it.

  Under the moonlight, the sea shone like black glass, broken only by the occasional sparkle of a ripple. Far below, waves lapped against the castle walls and crashed onto the rocks. I wouldn’t be escaping through there. Faced with no other choice, I eased back to the floor and sat down on the rough material to wait it out.

  I hated waiting. Waiting drove me insane or sent me to sleep. Beyond that, it was cold. The blouse and skirt I’d dressed in for the funeral were totally inappropriate for dungeon wear, particularly now that my skirt had ripped all the way up the side seam and didn’t meet around my thigh anymore. I pulled the soiled blanket over my knees, tried not to picture how the dried blood had ended up on it, wrapped my arms around myself, and, despite shaking with cold, attempted to lose myself to sleep.

  But sleep didn’t come. I was to be given no relief from my living nightmare. Kerry didn’t speak, and I couldn’t think of anything worthwhile to say to her, so we sat in silence.

  A rat poked its head out from a small gap in the wall and sniffed the air. I’ve never been afraid of rats, and would have welcomed the company, but it backed away again, never to reappear.

  Time dragged until I heard a noise. Not the far-off shouts and bangs, the footsteps above, or the clanging doors. No. This softer noise was gaining in volume. Someone was coming.

  I raised my eyes to the figure in the darkness. “Boss wants to see you upstairs,” it said, opening the door.

  I advanced towards the vampire and spotted him slipping a key into his jacket pocket. Feigning fear, I struggled in his grasp as we exited the cell, masking my amateur pickpocketing attempt, and then I screamed to cover any sound made by the key when I threw it to Kerry.

  “Keep that up and you’ll get me killed—for killing you,” the vamp reprimanded me.

  My weakened body was dragged towards I knew not what—I hoped food. I was starving, but something told me that my kind of sustenance wasn’t on the menu.

  I studied my captor. His black eyes showed no emotion against his wan complexion. A Romanesque nose hinted at a Mediterranean origin, but his long blond hair said otherwise. It was a relief when he threw me down on the floor in front of a couple making out, but I felt sure at least one of my ribs must be crushed.

  Tyron broke away from his female companion to note my arrival and uttered one word. “Irons.”

  Once more, I was dragged like a rag doll over to a waiting pillar, where my wrists were clamped in shackles above my head.

  “Hey, not so rough,” I snapped.

  “Careful with the merchandise, Daryl,” Tyron snapped. “I plan to get my money’s worth with this one, and maybe Father will acknowledge my efforts this time.”

  A cynical smile curved Daryl’s mouth but didn’t reach his empty eyes. His hand brushed over my blouse and he leant in, licked my neck, and whispered, “Sometimes he allows me the leftovers.”

  Five minutes became ten, and ten became twenty. A thunderstorm gained strength outside the castle walls. Lightning crackled and threw an eerie light around the vast room. I was forced to watch Tyron and the girl in their sick frenzy of lust. The blood had long since drained from my arms, and my hands had filled with pins and needles before falling numb. I prayed that it wouldn’t hurt too much to die.

  When Tyron pushed the girl aside, she crumpled to the floor, naked and unmoving. I wondered if she was Tina.

  “Nothing like a good appetiser, Durus,” Tyron said, slipping into a silk robe and tying the sash. “Put the rubbish out, will you?”

  He waved a dismissive hand and sauntered towards me until his nose was inches from mine. We locked eyes. I had no strength or inclination to play mind games, but he continued to stare.

  After a few moments, I snapped. “If you’re going to kill me, get on with it,” I said, pulling back the tears. He didn’t answer, and his intense look never wavered. “Stop looking at me!”


  He reached up to stroke my cheek. “I can’t help admiring beautiful things,” he said, and I cringed at his touch. “I brought you here for your own protection. You’ve been consorting with the wrong kind.”

  I swallowed, both to help the words flow and to keep my voice even under a rising rage. “You think you’re the right kind?”

  “For you, yes.”

  “You threw me in a dungeon, and now you’ve put me in irons.”

  “Yes. Sorry. But you insist upon being rebellious. You could make this a lot easier on yourself.”

  “How?”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “This human form affords a few pleasures, and to keep up a respectable appearance I need a respectable partner. I’d much prefer a willing one. If you relax and consent to my needs, I could make you happy.”

  I smiled sweetly. “I’m not sure Lara would like that,” I said, pretending to be interested in his offer. If I could just get him to release me…

  “Perhaps I’m looking for a replacement.”

  He angled his head closer. I considered kissing him for about a millisecond, but I couldn’t do it. As his mouth touched mine, I bit down hard on his lip. He stepped back, angrily dabbing at the green fluid beginning to seep from the wound.

  “Aww, Sophie, I thought we had a moment there, but it seems we must do this the hard way. Shame.”

  And all too quickly, he was back against me. To the sound of ripping material, the buttons of my blouse sprang off and scattered across the floor, and he cupped my breasts admiringly. “The human body is so soft and inviting, and yet so easily damaged.” He kneaded my flesh, stroking the exposed skin with his thumbs. “Yours is particularly alluring, and you are lucky that I wish to avail myself of as much of it as possible before I break it. I shall allow you to live a little longer than most.”

  He pressed his lips hard against mine, and my head crashed back against the pillar. It felt as if my skull had cracked. The pain was excruciating, and when it mixed with the salty, metallic taste of the green gunk I’d been forced to ingest, I was sure I would throw up. I felt a hand travel up my inner thigh and fought to squeeze my legs together, but his fingers were persistent, so I tried to remove my thoughts from the room, anything to get my mind away from what was happening.

  Over Tyron’s shoulder, Durus had returned, and he and Daryl watched their master’s activities with obvious amusement. It was clear they’d seen it all before. Daryl caught my eye and licked his lips provocatively.

  To my immense relief, all three men jerked around at the sound of an intruder.

  “Son? What’s this?”

  Tyron pulled away from me. “Father. A pleasant intrusion.” He sounded irritated. “I was going to surprise you with your gift tomorrow.”

  “And what gift would that be?” Sirus enquired.

  “A new tenderfoot, sir.” Tyron stepped aside and gestured proudly in my direction.

  “I see.” Sirus surveyed me up and down as I studied the three parallel scar lines running diagonally from his forehead to his neck. “You thought to present me with damaged goods?”

  “Damaged? No. A little shop-soiled, maybe,” he added under his breath.

  “Please, please help me,” I begged. “Make him see sense.”

  “Oh, I’m afraid there will be very little chance of my son ever seeing sense. You see, he has deluded himself that violence will get him the absolute adoration and total domination he craves. It is the curse of our kind.”

  “I only want what you are too weak to demand,” Tyron spat.

  “On the contrary. It takes a very great strength to deny my natural instinct,” Sirus maintained. “Now, release her.”

  “That wouldn’t be wise,” Tyron said.

  “You promised to abide by my rules in this realm.”

  “I did, didn’t I? Well, I lied.”

  “Are you questioning my authority?”

  The look on Tyron’s face confirmed he didn’t hold much store in his father’s authority.

  “I said, release her.”

  A movement in the shadows caught my eye.

  “I’m sorry, old friend, but we cannot stand back any longer. It is clear your son has no intention of letting her go, and we must insist upon it.”

  Relief flooded through me as Hemming strode confidently into the room, closely followed by Sebastian, Seth, and Arta. Sebastian advanced towards me, and I offered him a weak smile.

  My relief, however, was short-lived.

  “Traitor,” Tyron hissed at his father, signalling to his men for backup. “How could you? Not killing them is one thing, but inviting the enemy to our house? You’re a disgrace to Vira.” Tyron stood defiantly before me, an angry shield.

  Sebastian stopped short and considered the unfurling situation, his eyes pools of fury at my condition.

  “And you’re not?” Sirus screamed hatred at his son. “We rule with intellect and guile, not rape and murder. It is you who are the disgrace.”

  Tyron flicked his fingers at Durus and Daryl. They understood the meaning, and in the blink of an eye, they crossed the room and took hold of Sirus.

  “Times change…and so do rulers.”

  Tyron drew a sword from a nearby suit of armour, swung the blade with great accuracy, and severed Sirus’s head clean off. It rolled away, landing with a thud against the wall, and before the vamps let Sirus’s body fall to the floor, Tyron took hold of the severed torso and licked the wound.

  I felt sick to my stomach. Tyron was a depraved, insane individual who deserved to die in the worst possible manner.

  “You have gone too far this time. Your actions will be condemned by the whole community,” Hemming snarled. “I advise you to be prepared.”

  Tyron was unconcerned. “He was old. His time has passed. It’s time for some new blood around here.”

  “You try to justify your crimes?”

  Tyron turned his back to Hemming and addressed Durus and Daryl. “Gentlemen, we appear to have a problem with vermin in the place.” They sniggered excitedly, knowing he wasn’t talking about the rat in the dungeon. “Guards!”

  “Afraid you’ll lose without backup?” Sebastian said. “It’s been a while since I killed a piece of scum like you, but I think I remember how.”

  Tyron curled an eyebrow. “You don’t have the balls.”

  “Shall we test that theory?”

  “Be my guest. Daryl?”

  “I have no beef with Daryl,” Sebastian said.

  “You’re on my territory now, and here I make the rules. Here I am a god, and you are nothing. Besides, I’m a little tired from killing your cousin earlier, so I’ll be sitting this dance out. I’d prefer to be a spectator to your death.”

  “In your dreams.”

  The sound of grinding stones echoed through the hall. Around the circumference of the room, openings appeared and more vamps materialised from every orifice. There must have been at least twenty. We were surrounded.

  I looked at our pack of four. They didn’t stand a chance.

  The Lovells signalled to each other, stood fast, bowed their heads, and began to shake. Before my eyes, they transformed, and a dozen more wolves appeared out of thin air to join in the fight.

  The vamps were quick to respond. They crouched and pounced, fangs bared at the unexpected intruders, who answered the assault, leaping up and clawing out at their attackers.

  I was powerless to do anything but watch the massacre. All around me, the unearthly sounds of the slaying monsters bounced off the walls and reverberated in my head. I tried to follow Sebastian’s movements, but the werewolves were all too similar in appearance, and they moved quicker than my eye could trace.

  A ball of half vampire, half werewolf flew through the air, landed at my feet with teeth around each other’s throats, and rolled behind my pillar out of sight. Another werewolf was thrown across the room by Durus and landed on the huge dining table, shattering it into dozens of ready-made weapons. Its paw clawed out and grasped the wood, thru
sting it forwards and expertly finding Durus’s heart. His skin shrivelled and retracted, exposing skeletal features before he exploded into a cloud of ashes.

  So vampires really did die like that.

  To my left, a werewolf rammed a blazing torch under a vamp’s jacket. It promptly caught fire, and the vamp exploded in a rage of flames.

  The hall emptied quickly. More and more vampires became dust. I spotted Tyron sneaking through a stone door, thinking he was unnoticed. The coward. However, my attention was diverted by the sudden release of my wrists. I felt the links break under the crushing grip of…

  “Sebastian? A minute ago, you were…um…”

  “Never mind. We need to get you out of here.” Sebastian spoke forcefully and grabbed my hand. “I’m so sorry, Sophie. It’s all my fault,” he said, steering a path through the carnage. “I was too focused on our good news. I admit I didn’t realise how long you’d been absent, and when Connor disappeared too, I thought nothing of it. I figured he’d also gone to the bathroom. It was only when Beth pointed out that neither of you had returned that I came looking. Thank God you’re okay. Did Tyron hurt you? How are you feeling?”

  I ducked under a flying body. “There are so many emotions running around in my head right now,” I said, struggling to keep up with Sebastian as we headed for the exit the Lovells had entered by, dodging past grappling monsters and flailing bodies. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to be feeling. How did you know where to find me?”

  Sebastian stopped short, and I crashed into his back before he jumped over a severed werewolf head and we continued our escape.

  “Poor Emmel. Sad loss. I discovered Vincent’s body in the office and remembered you mentioned seeing Tyron’s car outside. I knew he must be involved. I’m sorry we took so long. I knew he wouldn’t kill you; you’re too valuable to him. And I had to get backup. Father didn’t want us to come storming in and upset the equilibrium, if it could be done peacefully. I think we’ve burnt that bridge now, don’t you?”

  Outside, a long corridor with a bright red strip of carpet paved the way to freedom. We had almost reached the end when two vamps materialised out of nowhere and blocked our path.

  Sebastian stopped dead and bundled me behind him. We retraced our steps backwards. The vamps, pleased with their find, grinned.

  Sebastian mumbled behind gritted teeth, “Go, Sophie, go.”

  “Where? Where am I supposed to go? I can’t go back in there; they’ll eat me alive.”

  We’d retreated far enough to draw level with a stairway.

  “There, up there! Now!”

  I obeyed, climbing quickly, all the while listening to the scuffle below. I had to trust that Sebastian would win and would follow me soon.

  The stairway wound high into the eaves. Eventually I reached an exit and found myself on the roof. The rain was beating down and bouncing off the stone. The wind whipped my hair into a nest of rats’ tails and lashed it back down across my cheeks, where it stuck fast. Above me, thunder cracks vibrated the heavens, and sheets of lightning lit up the sky in brief flashes, illuminating the eerie setting.

  Where to now? I searched left and right, seeking a path of escape. Why bother having a door when all it led to was a small parapet between the steepled roofs? I ran to the edge and peered over. The rugged coastline extended way beyond my limited vision. I remembered tales of this section being littered with the shells of shipwrecks from bygone days of pirates and smugglers. Huge grey waves beat against the cliffs below and exploded in a foam rage. We wouldn’t be jumping off there.

  “Missed me so much you came to find me?”

  Tyron!

  I spun around, gripping the wall behind me when the wind threatened to dislodge my footing.

  “Hmm. I’ve always had a preference for women who weren’t razor-shy, but I think I could see past the excess hair and the big nose. What do you say, my foxy lady? Join me?” Tyron took a step forward with his arms outstretched and his eyes on my sodden, clinging, and barely useful attire.

  “Hold that thought…and then forget it.” Sebastian shielded me with his body, quicker than the lightning above.

  Black veins pulsed under Tyron’s skin. “Are you ready to die?”

  Sebastian stood strong. “You first.”

  Another flash lit up the roof.

  Connor emerged through the door.

  I was hallucinating again.

  “Need some help there, bro?”

  Hearing things, too.

  Tyron let out a frustrated sigh. “How I long for the good old days. Time was, when you killed someone, they actually stayed dead.” He turned slowly.

  “Sorry to disappoint.”

  “I won’t make that mistake again.”

  Sebastian grinned at his cousin. “I thought I told you to stay at home and rest.”

  “And miss all the fun here? Not likely.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m all kinds of good.”

  Tyron considered his options. “You two have become a real thorn in my side.”

  “And yet the funny thing is, we were willing to keep to the agreement, but you seem to think that you can steal from us and we’ll let it pass,” Sebastian said.

  “Have you never seen something and realised you have to own it?”

  What was I? A possession?

  “Sometimes you have to accept that something will never be yours.”

  I glanced at Connor. He was looking right at me, but then lowered his eyes to the stone flags beneath our feet.

  Tyron’s eyes flicked between the boys. “Well, gentlemen, as much as I’ve enjoyed this little tête-à-tête, I have an army to assemble.”

  He sprang onto a nearby roof and vanished over the ridge tiles.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” Connor said, quickly following.

  A strong arm whipped me off my feet, and Sebastian and I joined in the chase across the rooftops.

  The rain continued to pelt from the heavens. It would have beaten any ordinary man into submission, but not these men. They scaled the steepest of inclines with ease. Even losing the use of an arm didn’t present a problem for Sebastian.

  “Can’t you take me home and let the others deal with him?” I shouted over yet another thunderclap.

  Sebastian stopped suddenly on the top of a conical turret, scanning for movement…and found it. I relaxed a little, picking strands of hair out of my eyes.

  “Trail of smoke. Over there. He must have gone through that door. We can’t give up now.” The arm that wasn’t gripping the steeple and should have been curled around my waist lifted and pointed to a spot in the distance.

  “Sebastian!” I screamed. My feet flew out from under me, and my bottom slid down the roof. I turned onto my stomach just in time to grab hold of a particularly ugly gargoyle protruding from the overhang. I was left dangling, staring at its grotesque open mouth, until my arm was yanked up.

  I filled with anger. “Nice of you to notice my absence.”

  “You’re okay, aren’t you?”

  “Thanks to the monster on the roof—and I don’t mean you. I was seconds from being pavement pancake, and you don’t seem at all concerned. Look, stay if you must. Just get me to a car so I can go home.”

  “You can’t drive.”

  “I don’t care. I’ll figure it out.”

  “Don’t be stupid. Come on.”

  I was left with no choice. Once more I was scooped up, and we raced to the offending door. Sebastian opened it cautiously, not knowing what lay behind it. The answer was nothing, which frustrated him greatly, but ahead of us was another door. Relieved to be back in the dry, at least, I followed him without protest.

  The next room held a terraplunger. Sebastian ran over and studied the markings before turning his back to the column and sliding down it to the floor. I squatted down beside him as he placed his head in his hands. Another nearby door was flung open, and the space filled with Lovells.

  “Al
l the vamps are toast except Daryl, who got away from us. We followed him up here. Have you seen him?” Arta asked.

  I shook my head and turned to Sebastian. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

  “Tyron,” he groaned. “The terraplunger is set for Vira. He’s gone.”

  THE END

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  The story continues in Book Two, Foxblood: Rise of The Hellion.

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