Chapter 6
JAMES
A fortnight later, I was beginning to feel as if I was settling in.
London had a rhythm of its own, much like Leeds, and it was a case of adapting to that rhythm rather than trying to fight against it.
Edwin’s home was in Poplar, in the East End, which initially meant little to me apart from a vague sense of familiarity with its small signs of poverty and working-class struggle everywhere.
In some ways it wasn’t unlike Beeston, but without the damp walls and worry about being hassled by Daz on a daily basis.
I was also managing to sleep, curled up next to Edwin, who I knew without a shadow of a doubt would save me from any possible threat my panicked brain could dream up.
I still woke up at times with my heart pounding and a feeling of ominous dread, but reaching out to curl my fingers around Edwin’s cool, still hand chased a lot of the monsters back under their rocks, and I would drift off again with the scent of him in my nostrils.
Edwin had a large corner plot on a narrow road of nondescript houses.
He told me he’d bought the plot decades ago, and with some careful fudging of ‘official’ documents aka forgeries, it had belonged to him (him and his so-called descendants, because good lord, vamps have to think ahead all the time) from then on.
The part you walked through to access the carriage/house/whatever you want to call it, was a simple, partially-paved courtyard.
No grass, but with raised flowerbeds that weren’t overflowing with blooms, but were pretty enough.
The low brick walls looked sturdy, and the path was a crunchy gravel affair edged with what Edwin told me were cut down and painted railway sleepers.
It seemed my vampire liked to roll with a theme.
What I’d not appreciated that first night was the rear of the plot.
Approximately six times the size of the front garden, maybe more, it was invisible from the front approach because it appeared the property ended at a tall yew hedge which ran the length of the block paving behind the carriage.
At the far end, on a level with Edwin’s bedroom, was an archway cut into the hedge which led to a massive area of lawn, all surrounded by an extension of the same hedge.
On the other side of the lawn, as far from Edwin’s as was possible and looking very sorry for itself, was another railway carriage, not dissimilar to his one.
He described it as a work in progress. I guess vampires have a lot of time to work on stuff, seeing as they’re immortal and all.
Nearer his own carriage was a simple wooden table and chairs in one corner.
Running along one of the shorter sides was a roofed structure with no walls, which puzzled me until Edwin explained it was for drying his washing.
That did make sense; there was no room for wet laundry inside, or a tumble dryer.
The whole garden was impossibly dark, but until I pointed it out, it hadn’t occurred to Edwin with his brilliant vampire night vision.
He immediately ordered a weatherproof light to add to the back garden, saying it would be nice to sit outside in summer and maybe I could even eat my dinner out there.
I researched the area and discovered a covered market, where I spent Edwin’s money on some household necessities like plates, cutlery, and toiletries, and because he’d smiled and asked nicely, a couple of pairs of pyjamas.
I felt bad spending his money, but he got moody and snapped at me that being a shadow was my job and of course he was going to pay for things.
I apologised, then he did, and then he tumbled me to the sofa and kissed me so thoroughly I saw stars.
It was the only time he’d not asked my permission before touching me and although I didn’t mind at all — I barely had the ability to breathe at that point — he realised what he’d done and then apologised for that.
I’d waved his apology off, but he thought I was angry and didn’t want to speak to him.
He stormed out of the house and was gone for almost three hours, most of which I’d spent clutching my phone and staring at his number, wondering if I was brave enough to call him and beg him to come back.
When I finally heard his key in the door, I’d been frozen to the bed in my room with anxiety that he a) wouldn’t return because he’d cut his losses and left me to it, b) would return to tell me he’d changed his mind and I had to leave immediately, or c) he’d been attacked by someone or something bigger and badder than he was and I would never know because dead vampires don’t leave bodies behind.
To say I was a mess was grossly understating it.
He’d assumed I still didn’t want to speak to him as I hadn’t answered when he called out.
I was too busy remembering how to make my lungs work to form sounds.
When he found me, he’d made a noise that sounded like some kind of sob, then gathered me into his arms, wrapped me up like a burrito in one of his scratchy wool blankets and rocked me, still apologising, while I cried myself to sleep.
After that, we had a proper talk about not assuming what the other might be thinking, and life got a lot calmer.
I still felt bad about taking his money, but it was what I’d signed up for, so I knew I had to get over myself because fuck knew where I’d find a job in London.
I was trained for exactly nothing, my work experience consisting of various cash-in-hand delivery jobs, not all of which I wanted to think too closely about the legalities thereof.
I kept the carriage spotless, read a lot, and tried not to combust from embarrassment every time Edwin’s bite gave me a stiffy.
Tonight though, I had anxiety for a different reason.
We were going out. Specifically, we were heading across town to visit Edwin’s best friend, Baxter, another vampire.
All I knew about her was that she was a little older in vampire years than Edwin, super bright, and according to him, ‘fiercely beautiful’.
Yeah, so no worries there then. I mean, I’d seen her on a video call at Sorley’s place and thought she was a goddess then, so fuck knows how gorgeous she’d be in person.
We walked to an underground station. The noise and changing air pressure of the train hurtling through the tunnels was agony on my ears, so Edwin said we’d find another route home.
We seemed to travel forever, but eventually, after changing onto another line which was thankfully less noisy, then yet more tunnels and another brisk walk, Edwin stopped.
“We’re here.”
I looked up, then up some more, then I just stared at Edwin. “She lives here?” I managed eventually. “Like, on one floor, right?”
Edwin smirked. “Oh no, it’s all hers. Not all vamps are created equal. My girl is a grifter through and through.” He sounded proud.
“Isn’t grifter usually the opposite of a compliment?
” I followed him as he mounted the steps and inserted a key into the fancy-looking lock of the four — no, it was five — storey townhouse.
The place looked like it had been built to house rich folks who rode around in horse-drawn carriages and wore frills on everything. AKA very expensive.
He flashed me a knowing grin. “Well yeah, but seeing as Baxter and I keep the supernatural identity wheels turning for the whole of the UK and a lot of Europe, I’m fine with that label.
Besides, she earned this house. Said it was payment for debts owed.
Come on, she’ll be in here somewhere.” Not understanding what he meant, but presuming at some point I’d be clued in if he deemed it relevant, I trailed after him.
The hallway was gorgeous. Light, much more light than I’d expected from a vampire’s home, glowed from lamps on the walls, reflected everywhere with ornate mirrors.
The walls were pale, the furniture on the darker side, and there was an understated elegance to the space.
The sophisticated atmosphere was somewhat ruined by the pulsing beat of rock music pouring from a room to our left.
Towing me behind him, Edwin poked his head around the door with the music and whistled sharply. The music cut out.
“Gimme a minute, mate. Just wrestling this…Yeah, gotcha! Die, you bastard, die!” There was a delighted laugh, then it went quiet. I really hoped Baxter was playing a video game.
Moments later a familiar face came into view.
Welp. Edwin might have seriously underplayed how beautiful Baxter was.
The video call hadn’t done her justice either.
I realised on the spot that while I did like blokes, a lot, I was definitely bisexual, and right now I was torn between throwing myself at her feet or scarpering in terror.
Baxter and Edwin hugged, then she turned her attention on me, apparently sizing me up. “Ain’t you a cute one? James, right? Is Eddie treating you like a prince? If he’s not, I have ways of fucking him up enough to make him very sorry.”
I gulped, completely struck dumb. Baxter was as tall as me. Between her looks, the plunging neckline of her silky shirt, and the indecent length of her legs clad in scarlet leather trousers, I was having trouble remembering how to breathe.
“Leave him be, Bax. Of course I’m looking after him.
James, ignore her. You’re a total twink, so it’s like throwing a catnip mouse on the floor for a kitten bringing you here.
” He turned back to his friend. “Make him a nice cuppa. I brought milk and sugar. Just the one sugar.” He thrust his small backpack in Baxter’s direction. “I’ll show him around.”
Baxter bared her fangs at him, chucked me under the chin, then strode off, presumably to the kitchen. I swallowed as I watched her rear view, which was almost as nice as the front.
“Fantastic arse, right?”
I raised my eyebrows at Edwin. “I thought you were gay.”