Chapter 34
When Charlie opens the door to us in Belgravia, he’s changed so much that I can’t believe it’s the same person—until he opens his mouth and says with a sneer, ‘I knew you’d come crawling back one day, wench.’
I gaze at him in shock. ‘What happened to you?’
Charlie’s jaunty youthful looks have vanished. Standing before me is a middle-aged man in a stained cardigan with a paunch and a lined crotchety face.
‘Have you been drinking bad blood or something?’
He scowls. ‘You always did have such delightful manners, bitch. You’d better come in. Your friend too.’ Charlie waves us inside, and cautiously, we follow him down the dim hallway to the parlour.
It’s so strange being back in this gloomy house.
Everything looks exactly the same, like I’ve stepped into a time capsule.
I almost expect Alexander to be in his study like the old days.
But I push away the feelings of regret for my past life before they overwhelm me; this is neither the time nor place for nostalgia.
Charlie gestures for us to sit on the emerald-green couch. He frowns as Sadie shakes her skirt out, and a cloud of soot rises into the air.
‘Sorry, we’re a bit dirty,’ I say hastily. ‘We’ve been staying in the Underground.’
He sniggers. ‘Can’t afford a hotel?’
Sadie tilts her head slightly at me. Don’t say anything about the money! I’ve blocked him so he can’t hear us.
‘Something like that, Charlie,’ I say smoothly as we settle on the couch, trying not to dislodge any more soot. ‘Just saving our pennies at the moment. London accommodation has become more expensive since the war.’
‘Well, you can’t stay here,’ he says grumpily, staggering to an armchair and lowering himself into it as if his knees hurt.
I thought you said he was cute? And I’ve discovered what his power is—being an arthritic arsehole!
I bite back a laugh.
‘Are you actually still a vampire?’ I ask him curiously. ‘You look a lot older, which is very odd.’
Charlie’s nostrils flare white at the edges. He leans forward slightly and hisses. ‘Papa gave me something before you left for Paris. He said it was to help me sleep, but it seems to have kick-started my ageing process.’
‘What the fuck?’ says Sadie incredulously. ‘Is that even possible?’
Charlie bares his fangs at her. ‘Apparently. But as you can see, I’m still a vampire—just a decrepit one.
Which is making it fucking difficult to attract the pretty whores.
Oh yes, they all wanted handsome young Charlie,’ he says bitterly.
‘For years, I tasted their delicious blood and fucked their lush pussies. Now I’m left with the middle-aged gin harlots with sagging tits and dried-up cunnies. ’
I glance at Sadie, and she’s trying not to laugh.
‘I don’t even know why I call Dryden “Papa”,’ Charlie continues, clenching his fists. ‘He’s not my real father.’
‘Oh?’ I say, interested to hear that.
‘No, he latched on to Mama after my real father died and decided to turn both of us into vampires to create himself a happy undead family when I was in my twenties. But he did something to Mama—I don’t know what—and she died.
So he was lumped with me. If he ever comes back here, I’ll cut off his cock and shove it down his throat for what he’s done to me. I loathe him!’
Sadie and I stare at seething Charlie, his face all twisted with rage, then at each other.
Sadie: You were right. He’s got a vendetta. Seems your charming sire has made another enemy.
Me: Let’s make it work for us.
Sadie: Tread carefully. Act sympathetic.
‘I’m so sorry, Charlie,’ I say. ‘That is truly appalling that Alexander did that to you. As you might have guessed, I’ve left him because I couldn’t stand the way he was controlling me. But since we’re here, maybe we could team up and help each other out?’
Good, Floss. Let him know he can trust us.
But Charlie looks at me suspiciously after this little speech even though I’ve said it as genuinely as possible. Then he seems to consider the practicalities of us being there.
‘Perhaps we could,’ he says after a moment. ‘Some vampire blood might help me recover. But what can I do for you?’
‘We need protection, a way of making sure that Alexander can’t track Floss,’ Sadie says.
Charlie stares at me. ‘You’re blood-bonded, though. He’ll always be able to find you, just like he can find me.’
Great, we’re going to be ripped to shreds, I groan to Sadie.
‘But’, Charlie continues, ‘I do know someone who might be able to help. An older vampire. Hester Everill. I believe she can shield, though I never saw her do it. I ran with her back in the early 1900s, and we had a lot of fun tearing up the town—and each other.’ Charlie waggles his eyebrows.
‘That is, until I started falling apart. Then she dumped me like a hot potato.’ He scowls.
‘Come to think of it, she’s a bitch, and I hate her guts. ’
‘Oh no!’ we chorus.
‘Please, Charlie, just tell us where she is. And we’ll both give you a drink,’ I plead.
He licks his lips. ‘Well, last I heard she was moving to Edinburgh. Said London wasn’t big enough for the both of us. But as I say, that was a couple of decades ago now. She might not even be there.’
‘Whereabouts in Edinburgh?’ Sadie enquires.
He shrugs. ‘How should I know? But it shouldn’t be too hard to find her. And you can’t miss her: tall, red hair, green eyes—a pretty piece of pussy.’ He smacks his lips. Sadie growls at him, and Charlie looks slightly disconcerted.
Sadie: I’m starting to change my mind about giving him blood ...
Me: Relax. He’s given us what we need. All we have to do is let him have a drink, head to Edinburgh, and locate this Hester Everill.
Sadie: I hope she wants a couple of cool unholy friends.
***
‘I can’t believe that arsehole,’ Sadie grumbles, yanking the curtain across the window so the first-class carriage is dimmed.
She leans back against the headrest, rubbing her wrists, which have healed but still bear the imprint of Charlie’s fang marks.
He decided that two feeds from Sadie and one feed from me would be a fair trade for giving us the information about Hester.
‘I suppose we should be grateful he didn’t want to fuck us too.’
‘Yes, we should be,’ I tell her, rubbing my own wrist and putting my boots up on the empty opposite seat. ‘We got off lightly, and now we have what we need.’
The carriage sways, and my hand rests protectively on the suitcase of Alexander’s money lying between us. It’s a mere drop in the ocean of what’s in our London bank account, but it will set us up nicely in Edinburgh.
‘It’s been over twenty years since Charlie last saw her.
This Hester woman may not even be in Edinburgh.
And if she is, why would she help us?’ Sadie says, putting her boots up next to mine.
We’ll be told off if the conductor catches us and be given the ‘Ladies, don’t do that please’ speech.
But I don’t feel much like a lady anymore, and I’m sick of men telling me what to do.
‘We have to try. Otherwise, we’re going to be running from Alexander for a good while longer. He’s really angry at me.’
Sadie grunts, ‘You should have staked him.’
‘I told you, I couldn’t,’ I reply tersely. She pats my arm, knowing that it’s a subject that causes me angst.
‘All right. I don’t blame you.’
It’s one thing to get rid of a serial killer terrorising Whitechapel, but quite another to murder my own master, even if the intention is there. I haven’t forgiven him for not letting me go to Aunt Ivy on her deathbed, and I never will.
I visited her gravestone in Spitalfields before we left London and laid a red rose on it. Then I gave into my tearless grief as Sadie waited for me by the gate, giving me privacy.
Oh, Aunt Ivy, how could you have sent me to that man? I wish I’d refused to go and stayed with you.
Our conversation back in 1888 flits into my mind as it has been lately, and I smile wryly. She was so adamant that the job was going to be the making of me. Now here I am, immortal and on the run with a vampire friend.
I glance at Sadie, who still has her hand on my arm. But her eyes are closed, dark lashes fanning her pale cheeks: she’s resting, preparing for whatever lies ahead when we reach Edinburgh because we’re going to have to find accommodation and then feed.
No one would believe this is my life if I told them.
Maybe I should write a memoir and pretend it’s fiction?
I muse. My Life in Blood—an innocent girl turned against her will by an evil vampire doctor.
I could be the next Bram Stoker. Grinning to myself, I drum my fingers softly on the suitcase and attempt to come up with a cracking first line as the train snakes onwards to Scotland.