The Vampire Gene (9 page)

"You think?" I spoke softly, menacingly.

"You don't frighten me," he stated inaccurately. I could smell his fear as it seeped from his pores. I contemplated extracting information from this frightened man, and I knew it wouldn't take long. But I suddenly became tired of him. He'd pretty much served whatever purpose he'd had, and I wasn't sure he'd know all of Jack's details anyway. I couldn't imagine anyone like Jack confiding much in this idiot. Plus I had to get back to the Colborne house as soon as I could, and that was a good ninety minute drive. I wondered if I could leave him here and come back later, but decided against it. Who knew when I'd be able to return. I didn't want him to starve to death - that would be cruel. Instead I stepped toward him and grasped his neck and crushed it just at the base of his skull. His eyes rolled back in his head and all movement stopped. If he wasn't dead, he would be in a few minutes when his brain starved of blood and oxygen and the cells began rapidly dying in their millions.
It was a kindness, really.

I was out of that barn, with everything locked up nice and tight, in under two minutes.

Rebecca

I was sitting next to Fergus when that call came. We had gathered in the dining room to eat lunch, and also to review Oliver and Simon's pretty impressive collection of weaponry. I was sure the vast majority of the objects that lay with glittering menace on the table had never been approved for use by any sane person in any normal country. They seemed to radiate death in all kinds of grisly forms. I was starting to rethink my opinion of Oliver.

Too civilised? I think not.

I watched Fergus' expression change as Angus spoke, and it felt like my heart lurched in my chest. Fergus kept his voice even as he spoke, but I could see the uneasiness in his eyes. As soon as he had disconnected the call he turned to Marcus, who, predictably, was seated next to Julia.

"Jack knows where Rebecca is, and he could be arriving any minute," he told his brother impassively. Julia's eyes widened.

"We need to fortify this place as best we can, then," stated Marcus. "Your firearms and ballistic vests haven't arrived yet, have they?"

"Nope," admitted Fergus. "They're due later this afternoon
. We have three shotguns from the estate, our coats, and this lot," he waved his hand at the collection on the table.

"I think we should set everything up in the older part of the house," Julia suggested. "The walls are stone, and much thicker than in the newer sections. The windows are also smaller and easier to defend."

"What about the safe room?" Simon wanted to know. "It's got a great communications centre, with wifi and satellite connections. I could set all my stuff up in there. I have communication headsets for all of us, and I could help coordinate everything. We also have some monitors on the grounds that I can keep an eye on, and let you guys know as soon as I see anything suspicious. Lucy can hang out with me - she'll be safe in the safe room. Obviously," he added dryly.

"Right," said Fergus. "I'll help Simon set everything up in the safe room. Marcus - you and Rebecca can help carry all this and the firearms to one of the older sections of the house. Julia and Oliver can show you where. But first..." he held out a tub of iron tablets. We passed the tub between us, each counting out a dozen or so tablets, and swallowing them. Oliver took a few more, Julia a few less.

I watched them all, feeling sick. I had brought them all to this, this awful situation, where they might have to risk their own lives to fight for mine. I was desperately and blindingly afraid of Jack, but I fleetingly considered handing myself over to him to spare these people this future that awaited them - one which they had not chosen for themselves.

Oliver glanced up from the table
where he was gathering up a several pieces from his armoury, and his eyes met mine. His brows drew together in a frown as he sensed my thoughts, and his expression hardened.

"No, Rebecca, " he said. "Our family owes Jack a debt, and we
choose
to do this." He smiled without humour. "And I really
like
to fight."

I gazed into his eyes for a few moments, and I saw the truth of his words, and I was suddenly a bit frightened of this uncannily good-looking vampire, of his intensity and fierceness. Another part of me, a base, traitorous fragment of my soul, felt a tug of attraction to this man. He must have sensed it, because his eyes softened, and his lips curled in a wistful smile.

Then it was all action, people moving about purposefully, gathering up weapons. We followed Julia down a couple of passages until we came to the massive old room that had been the scene of my abduction yesterday. Today it seemed different, safer somehow. It helped that Marcus was there, and Julia. And Oliver, who stood at the enormous wooden table in the centre of the room, explaining to Marcus how to use a wicked looking crossbow, that looked like it was modified to fire repeatedly - a type of magazine was fitted below it, and several of these were gathered in a heap at one end of the table. He removed the magazine easily, demonstrating the mechanism to Marcus who nodded and looked impressed.

Julia had picked up a worn looking leather belt and was buckling it around her waist. She slipped a couple of long, curved knives into their sheaths and fastened them to the belt. The practised way in which it was done suggested she'd done this several times before. Interesting family.

Fergus joined us eventually and walked straight to the table like a child approaching a pile of wrapped gifts under a tree in December.

"Simon?" Julia asked him.

"Locked up nice and tight. He gave me these to distribute - he's set them up to communicate only with each other and himself. We couldn't find Lucy, but she left a note saying she'd gone out for the afternoon with her dad, so she should be safe for now."

Julia nodded slowly.
He handed us all a miniature headset complete with earpiece and microphone. I put mine on, and was surprised at how well it fit.

"Hello?" I said into the microphone.

"Rebecca," came a disembodied voice in my ear. "Reading you loud and clear." The voice was businesslike and brisk and sounded much older than the teenager to whom I knew it belonged. I listened as the others checked in too, sensing the changes in them as the iron began to kick in, their voices changing, becoming stronger and harsher. The physical changes were less pronounced - movements became more deliberate, expressions more intense. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and menace. I felt the now familiar changes seeping through me, and I grinned to myself. It was a hell of a buzz, to be honest.

I stood at the table and took stock of our surroundings. Thick wooden door to the left, massive stone walls to the front with two windows facing out onto the gravel drive with its ornamental fountain, more stone walls to the right,
with another massive wooden door set further back. I knew that the door on the left had been locked by Lucy, but Julia had come up with another key, and it stood open now. The door on the right led to a smaller utility room, and then outside to more gravel. There was more stone at our backs, ancient and heavy and reassuring.

Oliver and Fergus spoke briefly, then disappeared together through the open door, returning a few minutes later. Oliver carried a large cool box, and tucked it under the table. Fergus now wore a black leather coat that reached to his knees, and handed a similar one to Marcus, who grinned his thanks and slipped his arms into the sleeves, and I glimpsed the glittering rows of knives embedded in the lining.

Fergus placed a large box of cartridges on the table and three shotguns with blunt grips and suspiciously short barrels. He looked up at me and curled his index finger. I obeyed the summons, and watched carefully as he demonstrated how to load and fire the weapon. He handed it to me, grip first and I held it, gingerly at first, and pointed carefully at the ground. The grip fit surprisingly well into my hand, and I quickly became used to its strangely comforting weight. I nodded my thanks to Fergus, who grinned back and started packing the pockets of his leather coat with cartridges. I followed his lead and stuffed a handful or two into the pockets of my jacket. I had never fired a gun before, but desperate times needed desperate measures, apparently.

Julia locked the door leading into the house, and pocketed the key. She had sent the staff home
earlier, and the place was eerily quiet. I went to sit on the edge of the table, and watched through the windows as nothing happened outside, the shotgun resting across my thighs.

Oliver half sat, half leaned against a corner of the table, one leg dangling, while he strapped what looked like carbon fibre wrist guards onto his forearms. He flicked a switch on one, and several short curved blades appeared on its surface as if by magic. Another flick of the switch and they were gone. He had replaced his shirt with a sleeveless black leather tunic that fit his torso as if it had been moulded to it. Tiny plates gleamed dully like scales in the leather. He had a knife sheath strapped over his jeans on his right thigh, and a double bladed sword rested on the table next to him. Apparently he hadn't been joking when he'd said he liked to fight. He certainly looked well prepared.

I thought longingly of Angus, and wondered where he was right now. It had been about thirty minutes since he'd phoned, and I knew it would be at least another hour before he could be here with us. I glanced around the room, at Fergus with his two shotguns, at Julia with her knives, and Marcus with his crossbow, and at Oliver, and I wondered if Jack was even going to try to attack us here. I sincerely hoped not. I had never been in a fight in my life, apart from the brief and infrequent altercations with Shanice, the school thug. These guys looked like they did this for a living. I felt I had to point out my deficiencies.

"I have no idea how to fight
," I explained, keeping it short and simple. Julia chuckled.

"I'd be very surprised if you did," she told me. "Oliver and I have done this several times in the past hundred or so years. We've picked up a few tips."

One hundred years - my head reeled with this information alone. Oliver was over a hundred years old. Gosh.

"Most important tip - decapitate
them or stop the heart. There is no other way to kill an iron metaboliser. And stopping the heart is not so easy. If there is even a small weak heartbeat, healing can occur, so it's always best to just remove the head. That's why we prefer the blades. Another thing," she continued, "if you lop off an arm or a leg, it does grow back but it takes about ten days, so that's a good way to incapacitate a vamp in the short term."

I wanted to ask how they knew that, but I also really didn't want to know. Some things can't be unthought.

"We tend to use carbon fibre based weapons and projectiles - hence the crossbows. For some reason, iron metabolisers can absorb metal bullets and can often become much, much stronger as a result. It's like giving them a massive dose of iron. So whatever you do, Fergus, remove their heads after you've shot them, otherwise..."

I looked at the shotgun on my lap and grimaced. Julia leaned across, and wordlessly handed me a
spare knife in a sheath. I strapped it to my thigh, and wondered if I'd have the guts to use it to decapitate a vampire. Gross. Seriously, some things really
can't
be unthought.

We sat in silence for a while. Simon's disembodied voice interrupted the relative peace, and I could see from the reactions around the room that he was broadcasting to all of us at once.

"The monitors outside have picked up some activity, guys."

And so it began.

Angus

I was about forty minutes away
when the first call came. At first I didn't recognise the voice, but then I realised that it was Simon.

"Angus?"

"Yes." I didn't feel the need to elaborate.

"They're here. At least twenty vamps, maybe more. Fergus asked me to contact you to let you know. They're all in the room Rebecca was abducted from, and they're going to need your help. How far away are you?"

"Forty minutes," I ground out through gritted teeth. My worst nightmare was materialising. Rebecca was vulnerable. I shut my eyes briefly.

"I'll keep you updated," he said, and then he was gone.

Rebecca

Turns out our idea of holing up in that room with its stony walls and thick doors made no real difference to the eventual outcome that day. Turns out all it did was give us a false sense of security. Turns out Jack's crew had captured Bill Colborne and Lucy, and they stood out front with Bill and Lucy bound and kneeling before them. I counted ten, then fourteen, and then still more as they materialised out of the sculptured gardens and great old trees surrounding the mansion we occupied. A ragtag army of blood feeders, with tattered clothing, and no shoes. Their eyes burned in their gaunt faces, their hunger an almost palpable thing.

"Shit." One word from Oliver broke the insane silence.

Julia seemed frozen to the spot, her eyes fixed on her child who knelt in the gravel out in the cold wind. Suddenly it all seemed a lot more desperate than it had before. One of the vampires held up a battered board with a number scrawled across the surface. He sneered, revealing teeth that someone had taken the effort to file to points. They were taking the vampire thing seriously, it seemed. It worked - I was suddenly gut clenchingly and cripplingly terrified. We were going to lose on this day, here and now. There were so many of them. We were going to lose.

"The hell we are," said Oliver flatly, glancing at me. Then he grinned like a tiger, and spoke into his headpiece. "Simon, you see that number? Can you connect me to it?"

"Absolutely. Give me a second."

Crackling, then, "Oliver, I presume?" a voice rasped its way into our headsets.

"Jack." Oliver's voice was expressionless.

"As you can see, I have your sister and your father. Give me the girl, and I will release them unharmed. More or less." The chuckle was dry.

"We have your word?" Oliver spoke slowly, turning slightly to wink at me.

"Of course." The voice became oilier, more persuasive.

Oliver waited a few beats, as if he were considering Jack's proposal.

"Give me five minutes and I'll bring her out. I have your word." It was almost a question.

"Absolutely." A click, then silence.

Julia looked at her son thoughtfully. Oliver raised his eyebrows and glanced at me.

"Think it will work?" he asked his mother.

"Even if they figure it out, it will buy us some time. And we will both be nice and close by then. Lucy should be able to run back here while you and I distract that lot," Julia indicated the group of vampires with a brief inclination of her head. I finally understood that Julia was going to impersonate me out there, and my whole being seemed to sigh with relief.

"And Bill?"

Julia shrugged. "If he gets away, he gets away . We will give him every chance. But I'm not risking my life for him, and neither are you."

"We'll help," said Fergus. "As soon as Lucy's back here, I'll join you. Marcus can hang back here. He's a superb shot, and he'll be able to decimate those bastards from a distance." Marcus nodded, and hefted the deadly crossbow as if it weighed nothing.

"What can I do?" I asked, almost dreading the reply.

"Stay here and watch Lucy when she gets here. And swap jumpers with my mother. Yours has a hoodie, which will be useful. It also smells of you."

I nodded and removed my hoodie, and handed it to Julia. Oliver hauled the cool box from under the table and removed the lid. He removed a couple of ice trays filled with a dark red gelatinous looking substance, and carefully replaced the lid.

"Blood shots," he said by way of explanation to the rest of us. "Help yourself." The tiger grin was back, and he looked at Julia from under his brows, his eyes glinting, wild and fierce. "Ready, mother?"

She said nothing, just smiled grimly and nodded. Together they threw back the shots, easily a dozen between them. The change was instantaneous. The air around them seemed electrified - it hummed with the power flowing through them. Their eyes glittered, the pupils completely dilated. Oliver reached to pick up his double bladed sword, and the blades retracted with a click. He tucked the now innocuous looking handle under the back of his tunic. They moved together to the door leading outside, and disappeared through it.

We all stood and watched as they walked across the gravel to where Lucy and Bill knelt, and the blood drinking vampires waited. Oliver's' hand gripped Julia's arm at the elbow, as he dragged her along and she tried to pull away, feigning fear. After an age they stood in front of the gathered vampires, and there appeared to be some sort of debate.

And then, as if in slow motion, the scene exploded into frantic action. Julia grabbed Lucy and pushed her towards the house, and the knives came
out, flashing.

Lucy stumbled and it looked as if she was going to fall, but Fergus was suddenly there with her, holding her up as she regained her footing, and began running in earnest. Bill was slower, but he made it to his feet and had gone a few steps before one of the bloodsuckers leapt at him. Fergus shot it in the head, but it was too late for Bill, who collapsed in a fountain of bright red arterial blood that sprayed over several feet. Marcus started firing the crossbow with deadly accuracy, each bolt hitting its target with an audible thud, and then exploding as some hidden mechanism was triggered.

Lucy reached the building and stumbled into the room, her hands still tied behind her back. I dragged my eyes away from the frenzied battle outside and used my knife to slice through the cable ties that bound her. She thanked me and immediately went to stand at the window, her eyes fixed on her mother and brother as they swirled, ducking and weaving, and then darting forward to deliver a deadly strike. Fergus had abandoned his shotguns and was using the knives he'd had concealed in his jacket. I watched his face as he fought, concentration and elation etched into his features, intent on death, and celebrating each fallen enemy with a loud and joyous laugh. It seemed as if the blood drinking vampires had never learned to use any form of weapon apart from their inherent strength and speed, and now that they were up against other, armed vampires, they were hopelessly outmatched. But they had numbers on their side, and even with Marcus and his exploding crossbow bolts and infallible aim, the outcome was by no means certain.

"I'm sorry," Lucy spoke eventually. It took me a while to realise she was speaking to me, so focused was she on the struggle outside. "I didn't know Uncle James was going to abduct you. He said he knew you and wanted to apologise for some deal he'd made that had gone wrong, and that he just wanted to make amends. He told me to lock the door behind me because you would recognise him and refuse to listen to his apology. It never occurred to me that he'd do anything so awful in his own brother's house. It makes me feel sick to know that I just handed you over to him," she finished in a rush and looked up at me, tears running down her cheeks, clearly distressed by what he
r uncle had done, and her role in it.

I smiled and shook my head. "Don't worry about it. You weren't to know."

"Thank you," she sighed, and dragged her gaze back to the window. "I've never seen them fight. They're so good at it. I wish..." she stopped suddenly and alarm skittered across her face. There was the sound of a key turning in an ancient lock and the old wooden door leading into the house swung open. "Oh, God, my key! I'd forgotten about that. Jack has my key!" the last words were almost a shriek.

Horror washed over me as I stood there, frozen to the spot. Lucy edged away from the window and towards the opposite door.

"Let's go!" she whispered, but I couldn't move. I just stood and stared at the vampire standing in the doorway, tall and powerfully built, with blonde hair cascading in careless waves over his shoulders. His face was flawless, the eyes a deep violet colour beneath high arched brows. At first I wondered if this was another brother of Oliver's, but when he stepped further into the room I saw the way cruelty had carved itself into his face, and I knew that this had to be Jack. I had for some reason expected him to resemble the blood drinking vampires outside, but he looked like one of us.

Almost as if in slow motion he sauntered towards me, triumph in his
eyes. He glanced at Lucy dismissively as she made it to the door and through it.

Suddenly my legs obeyed the command from my brain to run, but it was too late. Jack reached out and grabbed my neck with one hand, and the forgotten shotgun still clasped in my right hand with the other. My eyes widened as his hold on my neck tightened and his mouth curled into a malicious sneer, and he flipped the shotgun so the grip lay in his hand. I watched in horror as his finger tightened on the trigger, and there was an
ear-splitting explosion as pain ripped through my belly.

I looked down at the blood blossoming on my shirt and felt my legs buckle, before I was lifted effortlessly and swung onto a muscular shoulder, the pressure against my belly making the pain excruciating, and rendering me limp and helpless. I watched my blood falling in rivulets down the back of Jack's trousers, the motion somehow hypnotic, as the reality around me gradually receded and I lost consciousness.

Angus

The second call came as I was turning off the motorway about ten miles away from the Colborne house.

"Angus! Jack's got her. He somehow took her while the others were fighting. She's hurt, we don't know how badly, but there was a lot of blood on the floor..."

I disconnected the call, and pulled up the app for tracking the GPS locator I'd hidden in one of her shoes. The beacon lit up on the screen immediately, blinking reassuringly. I removed a small tub of iron tablets from my pocket. I seldom used this immediate release formulation - it was like drinking blood, and it rendered me almost senseless with power and speed and the need, above all, to destroy. It was a trip I feared almost as much as I rejoiced in, the euphoria overshadowed in my more lucid moments by a vague concern that the beast was no longer under my control.

Today I embraced the madness.

Rebecca

I woke up to a world of pain and noise, and the smell of my own blood. My eyes felt gritty, and my shoulders ached from the unnatural position my bound arms had been forced into. At first I struggled to see anything in the gloom, but the rumbling of an engine beneath my body and the darkness of the confined space that held me led me to the conclusion that I had been shut in the boot of a car.

Again
. I was seriously over this whole abduction business.

The pain in my abdomen slowly dulled to an almost bearable ache, and the blood on my skin dried. I knew without having to look that my gunshot wounds had closed over. I lay on my side, my arms pulled tight behind me. I could feel wires cutting into the flesh at my elbows and at my wrists. My legs were free, and I used them to cautiously feel the limits of my space, occasionally kicking gently at a surface. The car boot seemed to be spacious enough, and it smelled almost new.

I was still mentally grumbling and dwelling on my predicament when a surge of power tore through me, and left me breathless. It was followed by a second, and then a third. The exhilaration was like nothing I'd ever felt. I grinned in the dark confines of the boot. Wow, this really was something else.

I carefully pulled my arms apart behind me, and felt the wires stretch and unravel and part. I flexed my newly vigorous muscles, twisted slightly to adjust my position, and kicked up at the boot lid as hard as I could. The lock held, but the metal buckled outwards, and slivers of light appeared at the peripheries as the deformed lid was pulled away from the edges of the boot.

The car screeched to a halt as someone applied the brakes, and I was flung against the backs of the rear seats. I lined up a kick at the lock of the boot lid, and it sprung open as my heels smashed against it, flipping it with such force against the back window that it shattered.

I flew out of the now stationery car, only to be confronted by Jack, who stood, huge and smug and immobile, a few metres away from me, the shotgun gripped in his right hand and levelled at my belly.

"You don't learn, do you?" his smoky voice rasped through my head. His icy eyes narrowed. "I'm going to enjoy teaching you to lie down and take it."

I took an involuntary step back, my eyes drawn in dismayed fascination to the gun in his hand.

"Consider this your first lesson, bitch." he said as he shot me again.

I watched as the shotgun jerked in his hand, and saw the spray of blood as those pellets buried themselves in the flesh of my abdomen, but this time I felt nothing. I didn't flinch, my legs didn't buckle. I just stood there as blood flowed down my legs and watched the incredulity grow in his eyes. I tilted my head sideways and considered him coldly. My arm snaked out and I grasped the barrel of the shotgun. I grinned humourlessly. And then all the frustration and rage and fear of the past week rushed from the depths of my soul and into my arm and through that gun. Jack crumpled to the ground, his eyes rolling back in his head
.