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The Sweet Scent of Blood
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Текст книги "The Sweet Scent of Blood"


Автор книги: Сьюзан Маклеод



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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

Chapter Sixteen

Ifound the fang-gang in a narrow passage way behind The Leech. Standing in the shadows, I peered down the alley. There was just enough moonlight to boost my vampire sight. Cherub Cheeks, Zigzag and Mr June were gathered in a semi-circle facing Gazza and another vamp with long platinum-blond hair wearing a red poet’s shirt. He had his arm slung over Gazza’s shoulder. He’d been the one my eyes kept sliding away from in the pub. Was it just a neat vampire trick I hadn’t come across before, or some sort of magic?

They’d picked their site well: escape routes at either end, no windows above to shed any light and the half dozen large bottle-skips parked along the alley’s brick wall to give them some privacy. Only another vamp might notice them, and depending on their inclination, they’d either ignore what was happening or join in. It was the Beater goblins and their silver-foil covered bats the fang-gang wanted to avoid.

I clenched my fists. I knew what was coming next, and I couldn’t stop it, not yet—four against one meant the odds were definitely not in my favour. I could alert the Beaters myself, but Gazza didn’t have that much time on his side and all it would gain him would be months of treatment at HOPE and a lifetime popping G-Zav pills.

If he even survived.

So I watched, frustration and hunger eating away like acid at my insides.

Red Poet vamp wrapped his forearm round Gazza’s neck. ‘Party time,’ he crooned.

‘What—?’ Gazza’s startled cry fizzled out as his windpipe and vocal chords were almost crushed.

‘Shhh.’ Red Poet stroked Gazza’s cheek, then shoved his head back at an awkward angle. ‘C’mon boys,’ he said to the other vamps, ‘time to play.’

Gazza’s arms flailed, fingers clutching at the empty air.

‘My turn now, man.’ Zigzag grabbed the edges of Gazza’s PVC coat and wrenched it down, trapping his arms against his body.

Gazza’s boots scuffed along the gravel.

I dug in my pocket, removed the Union Jack badges.

‘Gotta bleedin’ luv it, mates.’ Cherub Cheeks gave a low whooping laugh as he yanked Gazza’s PVC trousers to his knees, effectively hog-tying his legs.

Gazza’s lower body jerked, hip bones sticking out like chicken wings above tiny red satin briefs.

I shrugged out of my own jacket and spread it out on the cobbles at the end of the alley. Hiding the badges under it, I flicked on their switches.

Mr June fisted his hands in Gazza’s T-shirt and hissed as he tore it apart, exposing Gazza’s thin, safety-pin-decorated chest. He ripped a pin out of Gazza’s left nipple, held it up to check it, then tossed it over his shoulder. ‘We’re okay, chaps, its stainless steel.’

Gazza’s ribs heaved with each frightened breath.

Red Poet reared back, all four fangs glistening in the moonlight.

I hugged myself, pressed my lips hard together, trying to ignore the excitement frothing through my own veins.

A high, thin squeal, like a pig having its throat cut, pierced the night, sharp scents of blood and venom tainted the air and harsh wet sucking noises permeated the darkness.

I scrunched my eyes tight and leaned back against the brick wall, listening ...

Muffled whimpers, the low hum one of the vamps made as he fed, the rapid beat of Gazza’s heart as fear and venom-induced adrenalin pumped his virgin blood faster and faster ...

I wanted to blank out the sounds of the attack, but that was too dangerous. If I was to save Gazza, I had to get it right. Shit.This part of Sucker Town was supposed to be safer. I was going to have to extend my own hunting territory in future. After a while I opened my eyes and stared up at the stars blinking wearily through London’s light pollution, waiting.

‘Bleedin’ fantastic, mates.’

The voice made me jump. I took a cautious look down the alley.

‘Takes the taste of troll tits right outta yer mouth.’ Cherub Cheeks smacked his lips.

Showtime.

I snatched up my jacket, shoved it on. The three badges were still bravely flashing their little batteries out.

‘Beaters,’ I called in a loud whisper, keeping to the shadows. ‘Beaters are coming!’

‘Bloody hell!’ Zigzag’s head shot up and he looked towards me.

Cherub Cheeks slapped Mr June and Red Poet on their shoulders. ‘Oi, up, mates, git a bleedin’ move-on. I can see their bleedin’ trainers!’

All four rose as one and almost silently sprinted away in a rush of disturbed air, disappearing out the other end of the alley.

I scooped up my badges, flicked off their lights and walked over to Gazza. He was lying as the vampires had left him, eyes wide and unfocused, held prisoner by his own clothes. Shivers racked his body and dark blood streamed from the bites, four of them in total. I’d only given the vamps enough time for one bite each, but I still counted them, to be sure.

My mouth watered. Shit. I turned away and kicked one of the large skips full of empty bottles, then punched it several times, denting the steel. As I slowly licked the blood from my knuckles I felt the craving recede.

I knelt and checked the pulse in his neck. It battered away, fast and shallow, like the heart of a terrified rabbit.

‘Not what you were expecting, was it, Gazza?’ I murmured.

The four vamps had taken him out to dinner, and then some. He was lucky his heart was young and healthy—but he was still losing blood, and if the bites weren’t closed, he’d bleed out. And be just as dead.

I gave him a mocking smile. ‘And we wouldn’t want that, would we?’

Bending over him, I licked at the bite in the crook of his arm. The metallic taste of his blood burst over my tongue. The adrenalin made it sweet and frothy, like a fizzy drink. The stream slowed then stopped as my vamp saliva speeded up the clotting process. I took a non-breath and forced myself to spit out his blood, rather than do what I really wanted to—roll it round my mouth... and swallow.

I tore a strip off his ruined T-shirt and bandaged it round his arm. He let out a quiet whimper as I carefully pulled his coat up and over his shoulders. I turned to the bites on his legs next. He had one on the inside of each thigh, high up, close to the groin. His red briefs were wet with his own blood.

I sighed. ‘Shame they couldn’t have picked a less awkward spot, Gazza,’ I muttered, though of course I knew the answer to that one: fang-gangs went in for veins in a big way. I closed the first bite and wrapped more material around his skinny thigh. The other was higher, half-covered by the soft bulges in his briefs. Gingerly, I pushed the red fabric lumps out of the way and started on the bite.

Something stirred under my fingers. I rolled my eyes. Males were all the same. What with all that adrenalin and blood pumping round his body, it hadn’t taken much for his hormones to spring to life—even if he was halfway to dying.

The blood clotted under my tongue. I sat up and spat it out, then started shredding more T-shirt. His briefs hadn’t managed to contain his excitement and he poked out, twitching almost as much as he was shivering.

‘C’mon, Gaz, give it a rest, will you,’ I muttered. ‘Try using that blood somewhere more sensible, like your pea-sized brain.’

In answer, his shivers changed to full-blown tremors. Damn.He was going into seizure. Red Poet must’ve shot him up with more venom than I’d thought.

I gripped Gazza’s bony shoulders. He jerked like he’d been hit by a massive stun-spell and his knee jolted up, caught me in the chest and sent me sprawling. He panted open-mouthed and his lips started to turn blue—his venom-fuelled blood was rushing too fast through his lungs to consider stopping to pick up oxygen. I flung myself on top of him, using my bodyweight to keep him still.

The venom had to come out, and fast.

His spine bowed, nearly throwing me off again. Grabbing his hair, I wrenched his head to the side. A flash of Red Poet doing the same before he struck left a slimy feeling in my gut. The last bite was high up—it had missed the carotid artery by a goblin’s whisker—and clear fluid leaked out of the pinprick marks, not blood. I clamped my mouth down, my fangs piercing the swelling skin. Liquid fire streamed down my throat. The world went silver and shiny and hazy—it felt like every cell in my body was expanding, drinking in the venom, and I was losing the parched, tight, coldness that was my usual existence.

I sucked, mindless as a newly Gifted vampire, revelling in the pulsating heat spreading out through my body. Fingers groped at me and I moaned in pleasure. The jerks beneath me took on a rhythm, old as ages and I ground myself against him, wanting more. Hot breath panted in my ear, smells of salt and sweat teased my nose, metallic copper taste filled my mouth ...

I snapped my head up, awareness returning with the first swallow of blood.

Gazza grunted, his hands clutching at my back and then his chicken-wing hips jerked one last time. For one frozen moment I looked at him. His black eyeliner was smudged beneath his eyes, angry red spots dotted his chin, and with each exhalation a gob of snot ballooned around the safety pin in his right nostril—

I’d blown out the male model and Corset Girl for this?

I really was a sucker.

Rising onto my hands and knees above him, I spat, trying again to get rid of the taste of his blood. His heart beat fast and shallow under his thin ribs, but it no longer pounded at the same dangerous rate as before. I closed my eyes briefly. My own heartbeat had restarted, a slow strong thud in my chest, but frustration and need still clawed inside me. Even now, sated with venom, I wanted more. A voice in my mind screamed at me to take what I wanted—what I needed.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

I had virtually raped him, a kid—never mind I’d probably saved his life, never mind that he’d probably enjoyed it. He hadn’t been in a position to choose. A buzzing started in my ears, my stomach heaved...

A hand grabbed my hair, nearly ripping it from my scalp, and I crashed into the wall of the alley. My skull cracked against the brick and stars exploded in my head.

Chapter Seventeen

There was a naked foot inches from my face. It seemed to have more than the requisite number of toes. I blinked and the toes resolved themselves into the standard five. I moved my head, then stopped as pain jabbed into my skull. Ignoring the foot, I cautiously touched the back of my scalp, and bringing my hand back in front of me, I stared at my fingers—it looked like I’d dipped them in red paint.

Shit. So not good.

I tried to get up and more pain jabbed along my side, making me gasp. I slumped back, wishing the spell would hurry up and heal my injuries.

‘How disappointing.’ Hot thumb-tacks marched over my skin. ‘That I should find you like this.’

I recognised the voice, recognised the not-quite-English accent. Malik al-Khan.

Why wasn’t he wearing any shoes?

His feet were narrow, elegant. A thin band of jet ringed one of his toes. I stifled an almost overwhelming urge to reach out and touch and instead looked up. Black trousers, loose black silk shirt, I hesitated at the tantalising glimpse of pale skin at his throat and lifted my gaze further, straight into a pair of shadowed black eyes, punctuated by glowing red pupils.

My heart lurched with terror, and something else. ‘What the fuck did you do that for?’

Malik dropped into a crouch. The movement was as elegant as his feet. It brought his eyes closer. I pressed against the brick wall, not sure it had improved matters.

‘The human was near death.’ His voice was a soft threat.

My gaze flicked to where Gazza was lying, still unconscious. I concentrated, listened to his pulse. It had slowed and now his heart was beating steadily; he obviously had the stamina of a cart horse. Relief eased the snarl in my gut. ‘Not any more.’

Malik shook his head, the movement abrupt. ‘Feeding in such a way is dangerous. It is this’—his hand sliced towards Gazza—‘that escalates their fears, turning them into maddened vigilantes. That is why it is forbidden.’

An irritated part of me wanted to say, I didn’t start it, I was just trying to help,but then if I’d been the one I’d discovered sucking on the damned evidence, I probably would’ve found me guilty too.

‘Thanks for the lecture.’ I started to edge to one side. ‘But really, it’s not needed. Believe me, I get all that PC stuff.’ The movement jarred my skull. I blinked away the pain, it wasn’t as bad now, so at least the spell was doing its thing. ‘Now, I’m just going to clear up my little mess and we can forget all about it.’

He sighed, the sound sliding wearily round me. ‘You are mine, Rosa. I cannot forget. Nor can I allow you to continue like this.’

Confused, I frowned. ‘What did you say?’

‘I have been informed you had become feral, Rosa.’ He ran fingers through his dark hair, pushing it from his pale, pretty face. ‘I did not believe it so.’ The black gem still pierced his lobe. ‘Until now.’

Shock raced through me, the hairs at the back of my nape standing to attention. Why was he calling me Rosa? Was it some sort of game? ‘My name isn’t Rosa,’ I said, grateful the words came out calm. ‘You’re mistaken.’

‘No mistake, Rosa. You are blood of my blood.’ The glow in his eyes flared, then snuffed out, leaving them empty obsidian pools. ‘I gave you the Gift of this life.’

I stared at him in horror. He thought he’d Giftedme? Why? This was just a spelled disguise ...

Wasn’t it?

Damn. Exactly what sort of black-market magic had I bought?

I shook my head, the pain almost gone. Stupid question. It didn’t matter, not right now. Digging my nails into the gravel, I swallowed back my doubts. ‘No, you’re wrong.’

‘Do not think to deny me,’ he said. ‘You may have gained your autonomy, but it is still within my right to destroy my own creation,’ his beautiful lips thinned, ‘should I feel it necessary. ’

So not what I wanted to hear.

He carried on, ‘Why did you leave your home, Rosa?’ He reached out, sorrow in his eyes, and brushed his thumb across my mouth. ‘Why did you leave your companions?’

My lips tingled, swelled. A shiver rippled through me, flooding me with need. Remnants of venom-infused lust swirled through my body, muting my pain with the anticipation of pleasure. I parted my mouth, touched my tongue to my lips and tasted rich spice.

‘I told you, you’ve made a mistake, I’m not your Rosa.’ But my voice sounded thin, uncertain, even to me.

He gave me a sleepy smile, leant in until he was just a breath away from me. ‘I know this body, how to raise it to ecstasy.’ Gentle hands clasped my face. ‘I know how to drown it in power.’ Heat pooled in my belly. ‘I know how to promise it pain.’

My lips trembled against his. My body knew what he meant, and it wanted that pain, would claw through hell to get it. Lost, I swayed forward, sighing against the coolness of his mouth.

He caressed my neck, traced the line of my jaw, pressed his thumbs against the pulse jumping in my throat. ‘I should rip this pretty head from its body,’ he murmured against my mouth.

Far away, deep in the back of my mind, a voice started screaming in panic. I shoved the voice away and listened only to the frantic desire thrumming through my heart. Needing to be closer, I moved to kneel between his legs and slid my hands around his waist, feeling the cool silk of his shirt beneath my palms and breathing in his dark spice scent. His hold on my neck tightened, and with a sigh, I lifted my mouth to his—

In one quick motion he took us both to our feet and slammed me back against the wall, breaking me out of my daze. ‘But first,’ he whispered, ‘you will tell me what has happened to this body’s true owner.’

‘I am not this Rosa.’ I choked the words out around his hold on my throat.

He tilted my face up to his. ‘Would you have me hurt you?’ His tone was soft, inviting.

An odd feeling spiked low inside me, tipped over into desire, and I wanted him, needed to fill myself with him. Closing my eyes, I stayed still, clenched my jaw and struggled to ignore the feelings ...

... struggled not to beg.

‘Or would you have me pleasure you?’ His hands skimmed over the swell of my breasts, teased me to aching tightness. Cool palms slid low over my hips, moulding my flesh, sending heat singing through my veins.

It’s not real. I shook my head against the wall. It’s only mesma.Rough brick scraped across my scalp raising a far-away pain. It’s not real. It can’t be.

‘No,’ I whispered, opening my eyes.

The sensations stopped, leaving me empty, yearning.

‘Ah. So she is truly gone.’ He kissed my forehead sadly. ‘Rosa could not resist my touch.’

Grief washed over me like a wave and spilled hot tears down my cheeks.

He bent his head, licked the tears from my face. ‘These are precious jewels, not to be wasted.’

My heart quivered beneath my ribs as his mouth met mine. His tongue invaded my mouth, slipping between my fangs, tasting me as though he was starving and I were a banquet for him alone. I welcomed him, drinking him down with a desperate thirst. His body shuddered under my hands, the echo of his heart thudded against my breasts, the solid length of him pressed into my belly sending me liquid and willing and eager and reaching for him to fill the aching urgent need inside—

He broke the kiss and I whimpered at the loss. He stared down at me with eyes bright with tiny flames. ‘You shall not keep this body.’ He bowed his head. ‘It should not exist without her soul.’

His words reverberated through me, shocking me back to my senses. He was going to kill me. No discussion. No offer of alternatives. No phoning a friend. Just dead. But he couldn’t kill me—a sidhe was too great a prize for any sane vamp to ever contemplate just killing. Only I wasn’t sidhe now, was I? I was just another sucker. Damn! How stupid was I? It wasn’t just the witches I’d been relying on for protection, it had been me, myself, what I was. And never mind what I’d always told myself about death being my first choice of options—

I didn’t want to die.

Malik’s hands slid through my hair, holding me still. ‘For you, Rosa, for your love.’ His murmur wrapped around me, tying me with the finest chains as his mouth moved over my jaw, lips trailing along my skin and cool breath whispered over my neck ...

I wasn’t going to let him kill me.

His fangs pierced my throat.

The pull on my neck was delicate, the sting diffusing into delight. The pull turned seductive as bliss spiralled through my body. His mouth grew more demanding, drawing pleasure and power and pulsing life from me. Shadows swirled like spirits around us, half-seen colours glinting in their darkness ... He was killing me... his dark spice scent in my lungs, his beautiful lips taking my life’s blood at my throat ... Killing me with pleasure.

I wanted to live.

I dragged my trembling hands from him and flattened them against the wall behind me. I swayed forward, slumping against him, letting him take my weight and slowly, so slowly, felt behind me until I closed weak fingers round my knife.

Could I do it?

I hesitated on the edge of his pleasure, anticipating the plunge into ecstasy until, sobbing, I thrust the knife up between us towards his heart. His mouth at my throat spasmed and I screamed, shoving the knife deeper. He reared back, his eyes incandescent with shock and pain, his mouth stained crimson.

Clutching a hand to my neck, I stumbled back, my eyes never leaving his.

He dropped to his knees, spread his arms wide, calledout to me, not with words, but with blood.

Blood of my Blood.

I hesitated, wanting to go to him as warm wetness streamed between my fingers, but I clenched my fist and took another step back. My foot caught on something and I stumbled, twisting, arms flailing to break my fall. I landed on my hands and knees, staring down at Gazza.

His eyes snapped open, pupils dilated with fear, and choked out a cry of terror.

‘Rosa—’ Stone rattling on glass sounded behind me.

I swallowed back my own fear, my own urge to run. There was no way I could leave Gazza, not with a wounded vampire only feet away.

I reached out my hand to him, but he batted it away, wriggling back from me, dragging his trousers up over his hips.

A groan sounded behind me and heart aching, I fought the urge to go to Malik, to heed his callstill drumming through my blood.

I crawled after Gazza, and he scrambled back again, moaning and swinging his fist wide. Ducking under the blow, I grabbed his wrist. ‘Be still,’ I hissed, using my touch on his skin to send the command into his mind. He froze, shivering with fear.

‘A pretty trick, my love, to spite me so.’ Malik’s breath burnt along my cheek, I flinched though I knew he wasn’t there. ‘You always had such pretty tricks ...’

Mesma. It’s only mesma.

Run home!’ I ordered Gazza, and snatched my hand from his skin.

Gazza staggered to his feet and reeled drunkenly away towards the alley’s entrance.

With my heart thudding in my mouth, I turned, curling ready into a crouch. Malik slumped against the alley wall, the pearl handle of my knife a shiny exclamation point in the black shadow of his body.

‘S-s-s-silver, Rosa.’ He hissed, the accusation sliding over my skin like molten oil.

For one long moment, I stared, desolate ... then I forced my legs to flee.


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