Changeling
Authors: Steve FEASEY
The first rule of battle with the forces of the Netherworld: the moment you think you’re safe, that’s when you need to worry
…
The good guys:
Trey Laporte – fifteen years old. Orphan. The last hereditary werewolf
Alexa Charron – vampire’s daughter; skilled sorceress Tom O’Callahan – human tough guy. A match for any nether-creature
The nether-creatures:
The Incubus – a shape-shifter perfectly suited to trapping unwary humans
The Ashnon – extremely rare and highly valued demon; can perfectly replicate any living creature
The Necrotroph – hard-to-kill parasitic demon. Inhabits a body and controls the victim’s mind. Leaves its prey dead or insane
The LG78 – confidential. No further information available
The mission:
They’ve broken the evil vampire Caliban’s power base. They thought it was all over. That’s where they were wrong …
Bloodthirsty books by Steve Feasey
Changeling
Changeling: Dark Moon
Look out for the next spine-chilling
Changeling
adventure coming soon
MACMILLAN CHILDREN’S BOOKS
First published 2010 by Macmillan Children’s Books
This electronic edition published 2010 by Macmillan Children’s Books
a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
Basingstoke and Oxford
Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.com
ISBN 978-0-330-52119-2 in Adobe Reader format
ISBN 978-0-330-52118-5 in Adobe Digital Editions format
ISBN 978-0-330-52120-8 in Mobipocket format
Copyright © Steve Feasey 2010
The right of Steve Feasey to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital,
optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be
liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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Contents
For my three big sisters: Netty, Les and Debs,
who locked me in the shoe cupboard,
but also gave me so much love.
And for Shanders, who simply said, ‘Go for it.’
The first time the girl woke had been the worst.
She crawled out of the foggy darkness of oblivion towards the sounds of the medical equipment to which she was hooked via various tubes and sensors. She felt groggy and disorientated, and she
slowly opened her eyes to look around for a drink to ease the soreness in her throat. The vampire was sitting at her bedside, looking back at her with an expressionless face. He nodded at her and a
sad smile momentarily flashed across his features before disappearing again. Her breath caught in her throat and she froze; unable to do anything but stare at the abomination sitting at her
bedside, staring back at her.
That he was a vampire she had no doubt. There were no fangs or talons, and except for the fascinating pools of gold and ochre that were his eyes, there was nothing to distinguish him from any
other tall, handsome, middle-aged man. But one look told her everything that she needed to know about his true nature, as if she were still looking at things through eyes that were not her own;
through the eyes of the demon that had lived inside her. She frowned at this last thought, pushing away memories that threatened to pile in on her.
‘How are you, Philippa?’ Lucien Charron asked.
The rising terror that had built up inside her exploded into every cell, consuming her completely. A high, keening sound filled the little room, and she realized that it was the sound of her
own scream. The panic-stricken noise went on and on, continuing until all the air in her lungs had gone. She sucked in a great shuddering breath, closing her eyes for a fraction of a second, and
when she opened them again the vampire was gone.
She stared around her in panic, her eyes skittering about the room to see where the creature might be. She shook her head in disbelief, her breath coming in great gasps as her heart hammered
in her chest. There was no sign of him; he’d gone. She looked down at the seat and noted that the slight indentation in the vinyl seat cushion was slowly filling out, returning to a state
that would suggest nothing had ever sat there; that nothing had ever been in the room with her. She shook her head again and allowed the tears to fall.
She had gone insane. She knew that she was now quite mad. How else could she explain her belief that she had been possessed by a demon, and that the same demon had used her to get to, and
murder, her father in front of her very eyes?
Philippa Tipsbury cried great sobs as memories of the demon that had inhabited her body flooded back to her. A nurse appeared at the door. The middle-aged woman hurried to her side and
injected a clear liquid into a tube hanging out of Philippa’s arm. She cooed at the young girl in the bed as she administered the drug, and when she was finished she gently ran her hand
across the girl’s forehead, hushing her and waiting for the drug to take effect.
Philippa felt the coldness creep into her again, and she welcomed the calm that it brought with it. She tried to speak, but the drug was working so quickly that nothing came out but an
indistinct mumble before the darkness crowded in again at the edges of her vision and then consumed her completely.
That was two days ago.
And now they were back.
She tried to open her eyes gradually to the thinnest of slits and peer out at the person sitting in the chair next to her. The room was quite dark, the only light coming in through the glass
window set into the door, and it was difficult to make out the features of whoever it was looking down at a book in their lap, but she was sure that it was not the vampire again. It struck her as
slightly odd that the person was able to make out any words on the pages with so little light. She opened her eyes fully and took in the girl who was sitting with her legs crossed to support the
book, the fingers of her left hand tapping out a tune on the plastic armrest.
‘How are you?’ the girl asked without looking up.
Philippa instantly shut her eyes.
‘We were all so very worried about you that we’ve been taking it in turns to come and sit by your side. After your last encounter with my father we decided that it might be better if
he didn’t come any more. We didn’t want to freak you out again.’
Philippa knew there was little point in pretending to be asleep any longer. She opened her eyes and studied her visitor.
Alexa Charron closed the book, placing a bookmark – which appeared to be made of brown, coarse hair that had been woven and plaited together – between the pages. She smiled across at
Philippa, who frowned back as she tried to make out who she was and what she was doing here. The visitor had bright, intelligent eyes set into a face that was extremely attractive. Her black hair
was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore a white T-shirt and jeans. ‘Hi. I’m Alexa,’ she said, holding out her hand in greeting.
The girl in the bed ignored the hand, shaking her head as tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. ‘I’ve gone insane,’ she said.
Alexa looked down at the girl in the bed, a sad look on her face. She reached out and gently touched the girl’s forearm with the tip of her fingers, letting them rest there.
‘No, Philippa. You haven’t lost your mind. But what you’ve been through would be enough to make a lesser person do just that.’ She smiled a sad smile. ‘We want to
help you get over what happened to you.’
‘We? Who’s we?’
Alexa’s eyes stayed locked on those of the girl in the bed. ‘We have your best interests at heart, Philippa.’
‘My father’s dead, isn’t he? That … thing crawled inside him, forced itself into him, and he …’
‘Shh. You mustn’t upset yourself again.’
Alexa turned towards the small nightstand at the side of the bed. Pouring water from a jug, she helped Philippa to lean forward on her pillows and drink from the glass.
The patient nodded her appreciation, but stared back at the other girl with a look of distrust.
‘You look like you want to ask me something,’ Alexa said.
‘You said that that … man … the one I saw two days ago. You said that he was your father.’
Alexa nodded.
