Chapter 21 Felix #3
I didn’t even have a second to process before the second one launched itself at me.
It wasn’t like Seb. Nothing like Seb.
This vampire was younger, wilder, with eyes that caught the streetlight and reflected it back red. His fangs were fully extended, gleaming wet in the yellow glow, and the smell hit me—copper and cold stone and something sweet-rotten underneath that made me cry out.
Too fast. He’s too fast.
My body froze for one terrible second as every instinct screamed predator, danger, run. But then Kit’s voice echoed in my head from all those training sessions: “Don’t freeze. Keep moving. Buy time.”
The vampire’s hand shot out towards my shoulder. I twisted sideways, stumbling but breaking free of his reach, just like Kit had drilled into me. The vampire’s fingers scraped against my hoodie instead of finding purchase on skin.
His face contorted with surprise and frustration. He’d expected easy prey.
Keep moving. Don’t let them pin you.
I backed towards a parked car, using it as a barrier between us. My heart hammered so hard I could taste it, metallic fear coating my tongue. Ten feet away, sounds of Kit’s fight reached me—the sharp crack of impact, a low inhuman snarl—but I couldn’t spare a glance.
The vampire feinted left, then lunged right. I dodged again, barely, my trainers skidding on the damp pavement. But he was learning my pattern now, anticipating my movements.
“Come here, little rabbit,” he hissed, voice wrong somehow—too much sibilance, like speaking around those extended fangs took effort.
He came at me again, faster this time. I tried the move Kit had shown me—step into the attack, use his momentum against him—but my timing was off. The vampire caught my wrist, his grip like marble, cold and impossibly strong.
Pain shot up my arm. The wrong-sweet scent intensified. Hunger blazed in those red-tinged eyes.
Solar plexus. Like Kit showed you.
I drove my free elbow up and into his sternum with everything I had. The vampire doubled over, his grip loosening just enough for me to wrench my wrist free.
But he recovered too quickly. Before I could put distance between us, he was upright again, furious now instead of playful.
“Enough games. I’m hungry.”
He moved like liquid shadow, faster than anything had a right to be. I tried to dodge, but my human reflexes weren’t quick enough. His hands slammed into my chest, driving me backward. My spine hit the brick wall with a jarring crack, air leaving my lungs in a rush.
“There we go,” the vampire crooned, pressing closer. One hand pinned my shoulder against the wall while the other tilted my head to expose my throat. His breath was cold against my neck. “Well, aren’t you a darling? This won’t hurt. I promise.”
This is it. The training wasn’t enough. I’m going to die on this street, and Kit is going to have to carry my body home.
Fangs grazed my skin, sharp enough to pierce the surface. A warm trickle of blood slid down my neck.
A wolf-like snarl tore through the air.
The vampire’s weight vanished from me so suddenly I nearly collapsed.
I slid down the wall, legs unable to support me.
The vampire took one look at Kit, made a horrible sound, then bolted. His form almost blurred as he fled down the street, footsteps echoing before fading into silence.
For a split second, Kit looked like he might follow, muscles coiled for pursuit, then he dropped to the ground beside me instead.
“Felix. Felix, look at me.”
There was blood on his knuckles, dark stains across the grey wool of his cardigan. A cut on his forehead leaked crimson down his temple.
“Are you hurt?”
I tried to speak, but only managed a hoarse croak. My throat felt raw—had I been screaming?
Kit’s gentle fingers inspected me, twisting my face this way and that. His fingers brushed the blood on my neck, and his face went stone-still for a heartbeat before something dark and violent crashed over his features.
“I’m okay,” I finally managed to whisper. “He just… just grazed me. W-with his fangs. Where’s the other one?”
“Dead.” Kit’s voice was flat, matter-of-fact. “Stake through the heart. Got to you as quickly as I could.”
The full weight of what had just happened hit me all at once. I’d been seconds away from having my throat torn out by a creature that moved faster than thought. If Kit hadn’t finished his fight when he did…
My hands started shaking. Then my whole body.
“Hey.” Kit’s voice softened. “Hey, you’re safe now. It’s over.”
Kit pulled me to my feet, gathering me in his arms. His hands rubbed up and down my arms, warming me through the fabric of my hoodie.
“I did it,” I said suddenly, surprise cutting through the lingering terror. “Holy shit, I did it!”
Kit pulled back slightly, confusion flickering across his face. Possibly because he was the one who staked one vampire and scared off the other.
But still.
“The elbow strike,” I clarified, adrenaline making my words tumble together. “When he grabbed me, I got him with the solar plexus move you taught me. It actually worked. He let go and everything.”
Understanding dawned on Kit’s features, followed by something that might have been pride. “Felix, that’s brilliant. You bought yourself time, stayed calm under pressure. That move probably saved your life. You saved your life.”
“I was terrified,” I admitted.
“Being terrified and doing it anyway—that’s courage.” His thumb traced along my cheekbone. “You did everything right.”
I leaned into the touch, letting his warmth ground me. But questions were already crowding my head.
“Who were they? Why did they attack us?”
“Earlier today I went to Brixton to pass along a message to Marcus Vale. Told him Seb was going to finally meet with him tomorrow whether he liked it or not.” He glanced down the street where the vampire had disappeared. “I guess this was them passing on a message back.”
“They followed you all the way from Brixton to Ealing?” I stared at him in disbelief.
Kit’s face flickered through several expressions—shock, lingering fury, then… something else.
“I should have thought. Should have realised they might follow me. Instead I led them straight to you,” he said quietly, his hands still framing my face but his eyes distant now, looking somewhere over my shoulder.
“I put you in danger. They came for me, and you nearly—” His voice cracked.
“God, Felix, you nearly died because of me.”
“Kit, stop. You saved my life. I mean, after I saved myself, of course.”
Kit didn’t look convinced.
“This stuff comes with the territory of working for Killigrew Street. You know that. I know that.”
I forced myself to look past his shoulder to where the other vampire lay crumpled against the scaffolding, limbs twisted at unnatural angles.
The sight should have made me sick, but instead I felt oddly detached, like my brain was protecting itself by focusing on practical details rather than the magnitude of what had just happened.
“Annoying they don’t actually turn to dust when staked, right?” I said, surprised by how steady my voice sounded. “Would make cleanup so much easier.”
Kit’s mouth twitched despite everything, the ghost of a smile breaking through his self-recrimination. “Actually, their bodies do almost completely decompose within twenty-four hours.”
We found an industrial-sized bin down a side alley, padlocked shut.
Kit smashed the lock with one sharp strike, the metal shrieking as it snapped.
Together, we lifted the vampire’s body. It was heavier than I’d expected, dead weight that made my shoulders ache as we manoeuvred it into the bin.
Clearly, more exercise was still needed.
Kit buried the corpse under layers of rubbish. I happily let him do that job alone.
“I’ll message Seb,” he said, pulling out his phone. “He’s going to be so pissed.”
“Do you think we could just go home now?” I asked. “I’m not sure I’m in the mood for hot chocolate anymore, strangely.”
Kit nodded as he texted. “I’ll take you straight home.”
The walk back to the underground station felt like navigating a maze designed by someone with severe paranoia.
Kit guided me through a series of seemingly random turns—doubling back on ourselves, ducking through a shopping centre that was mostly closed, taking a detour through a car park that added at least ten minutes to our journey.
“Just making sure we’re clear,” he murmured when I shot him a questioning look. “That vampire who ran off probably went straight back to Marcus, but better safe than sorry.”
His hand found mine again as we descended into the Tube station, fingers interlacing so tightly it sort of hurt.
Kit insisted we avoid the closer stations, taking us on the District line to Victoria, then Victoria line to Stockwell rather than Battersea Park.
Throughout the journey, his thumb never stopped moving across my knuckles in those small, soothing circles.
On the Tube, he sat pressed against my side, one hand resting on my thigh just above my knee.
Every few minutes, his grip would tighten slightly, like he was checking I was still solid, still breathing, still there.
When we had to change platforms at Victoria, his arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me close.
The constant touching should have been too much—I was still shaking, overstimulated, wound tight—but somehow it was exactly what I needed.
By the time we reached my building, the adrenaline had mostly worn off, leaving me hollow and shaky. I fumbled with my keys, hands trembling enough that Kit had to steady my wrist to help me get the door open.
I expected him to say goodnight on the doorstep. Kiss me softly, maybe, then head off to go stake some more vampires.
Instead, he followed me inside, murmuring something about making me tea.