Bad Blood (Battle of the Undead Book 1) (5 page)

“Maybe it’s a
zompire. Ever thought of that?”

“A
zompire? You’re kidding! Vambie sounds better.”

“Vambie sounds like a lovable, bloodsucking Disney character. We don’t know how dangerous these things are.”

“Well, I guess I’ll find out when I meet the vambie who made that sign.” I jerked my finger toward the building and kept walking. I heard him mutter something beneath his breath, but he still followed.  

The office block was one of those massive leaning monstrosities that sway
ed in a summer breeze and blotted out the sun. The sign was about five floors up, so I checked the reception map. The fifth floor was a solicitors’ firm.

“Maybe we should just leave them then
,” Nicholas muttered. “Let’s not get solicitors involved with the new world order.”

He was far too close to me, so I pushed him hard in the opposite direction.

“I didn’t realize you were pro-law, Brianna.”

With a cocky swagger, Nicholas opened the door to the stairwell. As he did, a zombie office worker lurched out of it and bit him on the wrist. I watched him recoil then spring forward and break the zombie's neck in one swift motion. The wound closed up, but the healing process took longer than it should have.

I pushed past him and started up the stairs.

Our footsteps were swift
, but still managed to echo up the building. We attracted two more zombies whom Nicholas easily dealt with. The earlier bite was like petrol on his flaming ego-rage, probably because we both knew that, had he been human, he would have been dead. I’d have gladly cleaved off his head, even if the zombie hadn’t broken his skin, although my merry murdering ways were cold comfort to a vampire who prided himself on winning every battle and consistently getting his own way.

I was starting to think the whole undead thing might have been greatly exaggerated until we reached the fifth floor. Zombies lined the corridor, all of them pawing at the door beyond
, which looked like it was just about to break beneath the sheer dead weight. I whistled, and they all turned around as if powered by one single brain.

“Brianna, we need a plan
, not an attention grabber.”

“Christ sake, will you shut up and let me get this done
? And quit calling me Brianna!”

I punched out at the nearest shambling zombie. My fist split its head open.  Gore dribbled down my knuckles. Nicholas held his hands up in surrender then bowed,
signaling with a gesture that the rest of the zombies were mine. How gentlemanly. I really missed Philippe.

If I’d thought that zombies would be easy kills, I’d been a fool. Over thirty of them had squashed into the corridor and were now falling over themselves to get to me. They were like a rolling wave of death and rot with the sole goal of making me one of them. I pulled out my scythes and began hacking at them like I was harvesting corn—really gross, putrid, blood squirting,
and smelly corn. I didn’t get bitten. Even one bite would mean Nicholas had proved his point. I simply moved forward more quickly than the undead, darting into the small gaps created by their falling carcasses, always out of reach of the shifting wall of teeth.

A
fter the last one fell, I heard a patronizing round of applause from Nicholas. The scythes felt heavy in my hands. The smell of the battlefield, such an odd odor indoors, invaded my nostrils, making them flare. I turned so quickly my plait fell out of place, leaving blue, straggling hairs around my face and obscuring my expression—which was why he didn’t see my sudden decision to launch at him.

Chapter Three

I first saw Nicholas at a party my father threw for his most loyal customers. As he sold the finest cloth and garments in England, many of his most loyal patrons were vampires. I didn’t know, of course. Nobody did, although rumors abounded of slaves who’d go missing after changing masters, debutants who never returned home from parties, and even lords who found themselves craving something richer and redder than wine and scented scarlet women.

The party was in full swing when I descended the staircase. I wanted to make an entrance. Langdon was there with his fellow officers, and I wanted them to admire me and be jealous of their friend’s good fortune. Such a silly girl! All I did was catch the admiring eye of a vampire who feared loneliness and had a weakness for tall blondes. As I made my way to Langdon, Nicholas appeared in front me, making me jump. He bowed and lifted my hand, and before I could protest, gave it a slow
, cold kiss that sent an unwelcome shiver up my spine. I excused myself with a sweet smile, but all that night his eyes never left me.

That unfailing stare was on me once again as the momentum of my leap knocked Nicholas on his back. I grabbed his arms
, but in my fury, my grip slipped on his leather jacket. Damn! It really was a good outfit choice. He managed to kick me off to his side.

He turned over on his elbow and whispered, “I so missed these little tumbles, but is now really the best time?”

The glint in his eyes sent red spikes into my vision, so I rolled to my feet and kicked him in the stomach. He doubled over for just a moment then gracefully stood back up, coughed, and scowled at me.

“You never did play fair.”

No, he was right. I never did. But he was never fair to me, so he deserved as many knees to the groin and kicks in the gut as I could slip in.

The door at the end of the corridor creaked open
. Someone was behind it pushing at the lumps of bodies blocking its path.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

“Hello,” I replied, walking over the mess and peering through the gap.

Inside I saw three people: an urban-outfitted teenage boy, a
Goth-looking girl in her early twenties, and a fifty-something man sporting wild, white hair with a pinkish tint. I yanked the door back fully and grabbed the man’s arm, pulling him from the others.

“Were you bit?”

I ran my hands over him, searching for the tell-tale bite marks.

I found nothing.

“I got splattered when my friend was…”

He trailed off with a glazed look then shook his head.

Nicholas eyed the other two. “They smell intact.”

I rolled my eyes. “Way to sound weird.”

“Are you here to rescue us?” The young woman walked forward, eyes wide with a mixture of too much stress and not enough sleep.

“Why, yes, my dear, I’m at your service.”
Nicholas gently lifted her hand and brought it to his lips for a quick kiss.

“Who are you? Do you work for Men in Black or something?”

Great. The teenager was a government conspiracy nut job. Although, considering Nicholas’ outfit... I mentally banked the Men in Black thing to taunt him with later.

“No, but we’re here to take you some place safe. I’m Britannia.”

“I’m Nicholas.”

He bowed again
, and I restrained myself from kicking him up the butt.

They all introduced themselves
. The girl was Tabitha, the young man, Tyler, and the older gentleman, John. After the strangest and most awkward introductions I’d ever had, we all started making our way down the stairs.

“I was working late,” said Tabitha. “I guess that saved me.”

“Yeah, your work ethic kept you alive!” Tyler sniffed.

“And you,” she whispered back to him.

He was wearing a delivery boy outfit, and I made a mental note to keep an eye on him. If he saved the young woman, he might be useful in a fight.

The question they all wanted to ask wasn’t aired until we came back to the Dead Hare. We knocked on the door and assured Tracy we really were who we said we were.

As I herded in Nicholas and the humans, I didn’t notice John behind me.

He rammed something sharp against my ribs and
whispered, “What are you? Are you one of them?”

“One of whom?” I asked back, raising an eyebrow.

“Them! The people who made the zombies.”

“No, not even close.”

“How’d you know where to find me?”

“You hung a sign outside your window.” I rolled my eyes.

“Oh.” He relaxed the blade.

I grabbed the weapon off him and put it to his throat.
“You pull a knife on me again, and the zombies will suddenly look real attractive, you understand?”

He backed away and nodded.
“Sure.”

“I don’t care what big
-wig you were before the crap hit the fan, but right now, you’re just another warm body, so try harder to keep it that way.” I then toned down the scary and managed to smile sweetly at him.

Tracy almost hugged me when I strolled back in, others in tow. Her kids were less controlled and practically flung themselves at me. I easily caught them in each arm.

“We knew you’d be back,” said the girl.

“What are your names?” With shame, I
realized I had not asked before.

“I’m Rose,” she said, “and that’s Rowan.” She pointed to her brother
, who grinned up at me.

“Show me your teeth again
?” Rowan asked.

“Later.”
I winked at him, and he shoved a soggy crisp into my hand.

Satan was also glad to see me and jumped up for fuss. He ate the crisp I was holding and sat down so he could still touch my leg.

I looked around to greet another friend, but Philippe was still not there.

Nicholas threw me a concerned look.

“It is unlike Philippe to not even call, let alone miss such a pressing social engagement.”

I never wanted to admit Nicholas was right, but I had to nod my agreement. Philippe was a lot of things, but late or a complete no-show was definitely not one of them. The sudden
realization he might never join us came crashing in around me. My buffer was missing. I had to find him.

“Okay, we need to go to his house and check it. He may be in trouble.”

            “My dear, those are not our orders. We are not supposed to help ourselves just...them.” Nicholas nodded at the huddling people at the back of the pub.

“Well, we’ll be able to help more of them
”—I nodded in the same direction as sarcastically as I could—“if we have more of us.” I raised my eyebrows.

“It’s still not a good enough reason. But we still need more of
them
. The Elders won’t be happy with such a small group of humans. ” Nicholas smirked then walked to the rolling shutters. “Once again into the breach, dear friend?”

“Up yours.” I turned. “Tracy, can you lock us out?”

“Britannia?” Tracy edged toward me.

“Yes?”

“Umm, if something happens to me, you know, out there, promise me you’ll take care of Rose and Rowan for me.”

The look in her eyes was somewhere between despair and hope, so I smiled at her.
“Of course I will. I’m protecting all of you now.”

She looked me up and down and tried again.
“That’s not entirely what I mean. I want
you
to care for them, and when they’re old enough, to make them…what you are.”

“Tracy.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I want them to live, and you’re strong, you’ll live.”

I threw my eyes to the floor then lunged forward, gently taking her hands.
“I promised myself a long time ago that I’d never make another…one like me. I can’t, Tracy. I’ll make sure they live long, healthy lives as humans. I promise that.”

Tears laced her eyes, but she nodded. “Sure, be careful out there.”

She rested her hand on my arm and nervously looked at Nicholas.

“I’ll be back
,” I said, using my best Schwarzenegger impression.

She actually cracked a smile.

Nicholas rolled his eyes—I secretly hoped that one day he’d roll them so hard they’d smack into his brain—and we both slipped out of the pub. The shutter quickly descended behind us.

“We should head to the hospital. A doctor would be a welcome addition to our menagerie,” he suggested.

“What makes you think any would still be alive? The hospitals are probably zombie smorgasbords.” I then realized the nearest hospital was St. Michael's, which was a stone’s throw from Philippe’s house. He might have had the same practical thought.

“Actually, on second thought, if there is an army of zombies I can push you into, it sounds divine. And while they bite you into oblivion, I can pick up some essential supplies.”

“Thanks. Your loyalty is noted.”

If Nicholas had ever thought my loyalty lay with him, he was sadly mistaken. He
’d made me, yes. If you want to get gothic and technical, he was my sire. But he had destroyed the girl he’d fallen in love with. He had murdered my true love Langdon, kidnapped me, made me a vampire against my will, then held me captive for over twenty years. At no point in that sad procession of events had I ever felt anything but revulsion and an overpowering need for vengeance. I said it as a joke, but given the opportunity to watch my nemesis be eaten alive by the flesh-munching undead, I’d probably seize it with both hands, giggling like a gleeful child.