Blood Deep (Blackthorn Book 4) (13 page)

T
he daylight was
as dull as it often was in Blackthorn, the pollution creating a density that masked ultraviolet rays better than the ozone layer. To Eden, it was depressing. For the vampires that resided in Blackthorn, it was a significant advantage.

Even though they had long proven wrong the myth of old that vampires couldn’t be subjected to sunlight, they could still only be in it for short stretches of time. It drained them, the excessive production of vitamin D it generated making them weak, temperamental and not least causing an excessive thirst that could be mistaken for the need to feed. All of the former subsequently put them at risk of the authorities.

Consequently, the one thing Blackthorn had going for it was that the weak sunlight allowed the vampires that dominated the district to move around more freely. Of course, the dense urbanism of Blackthorn also meant buildings were the perfect mask to duck in and out of. In addition, old habits died hard. The third species moved around more at night simply because, having spent centuries in the shadows, it made it less complicated for them to go about their business.

The unspoken rules of that business were known by everyone whether they lived there or not. The lycans, lead by Jask Tao, stuck primarily to the north, the vampires mainly to the east, owned by Kane Malloy, and west, owned by Caleb Dehain. The cons remained primarily in the south, just across the border of the penitentiary they had been extradited from. Anyone was free to mingle in the hub, the party capital, but anyone who did took their life into their own hands. Just as anyone who walked the streets of Blackthorn did – whatever the time of day.

So though the pavements were virtually empty, the hour still too early for most humans and too late for the third species (those that ventured to the south at least), there was always the chance of opportunistic stragglers of either species. There was never a time to let your guard down in Blackthorn. In the vampire territory, it was about siring – picking out humans to become feeders. In the south it was about recruitment – either for con leaders like Pummel to build their empire or to be used as commodities or entertainment.

Eden didn’t have the intention of being used as any of the above.

With his warm breath leaving traces of fake smoke in the air, Eden zipped up his jacket against the chill that warned of a cold snap coming. Nonetheless, he kept his hands out of his pockets and loose by his sides as he crossed the street on his way away from The Circus.

It was a name made up by the cons themselves to mark their territory – named as such because the rows of houses were the main source of entertainment in the south. Unlike the vampires, the cons didn’t have clubs, just bars. Subsequently most of the action took place in the privacy of those rows. They weren’t policed except by the con leaders themselves, and what they said went. That meant there was a row, or a room, for every sick indulgence the human, though inhumane, mind could come up with. Indulgences that, from the rumours alone, managed to turn even Eden’s hardened stomach.

Heading to where he needed to be, the south was everything he had envisaged it to be. Dispersed between the rows of terraced houses were run-down shops, abandoned garages, derelict parks now covered in obscene graffiti. A few stragglers sat on stone steps outside their, or someone else’s, home. Some hung around shells of cars that were now nothing more than an epitaph to what they once were. Only the select few had working cars – used more as a status symbol, or protection. There was no public transport, but wasn’t anywhere you couldn’t eventually get to on foot. Most stuck to their own part of the district anyway. For those who ventured further, bikes were definitely the more popular choice, especially for navigating the maze of back alleys where it got particularly challenging. Or they were popular amongst those who could get their hands on them, at least, let alone the fuel. The lycans were notorious for their bikes, but so were some of the more privileged cons.

With a couple of checks over his shoulder and crossing two more streets before passing around another three corners, Eden shouldered his way through the torn-off door and through the abandoned garage workshop. Like any other factory or outlet in the area, anything that hadn’t been taken during the evacuation had been stripped when the cons moved in. All the tools had been taken, no doubt primarily for weapons.

He made his way through the silence, the bars of light descending and hitting the floor from the windows high above, the broken glass of which was opaque from years of pollution and neglect. He strolled past the glass-panelled office, paperwork lying yellowed and dusty on the desk, a computer now nothing more than a plastic encasement.

Passing through the other side, he made his way down the lane and into what was once one of countless residential streets in the area.

Eden subconsciously rubbed the leather band around his wrist, tongued the wound on the inside of his lip, the prospect of having taken it too far back in the lock-up playing over and over in his head. He hadn’t planned on telling her so soon why he needed her, hadn’t planned on exposing the only vulnerability he had in that place. But it had felt right to tell her at that point, her resistance to him frustrating. Because she
wasn’t
like the others there. On some level, he had to drop her barriers before he could gain her trust. Walking away, he hoped, had gone some way towards that.

Eden descended the stone steps to the basement apartment.
He unlocked the paint-peeling door and bolted it behind him. The main window sat to his left, wire mesh, like so many windows in the district, masking it from the outside. The double bed lay in front of him, backed against the wall to his right. A sofa sat at the foot of it. Next to that, a table and three chairs were shoved against the wall next to the bathroom door.

They were still unpacking so clearly they had only got there minutes before him. The woman, stood at the table, was emptying contents from her metal briefcase. The guy he knew as Sharner from their one brief introduction sat adjacent to her.

Another guy stood against the kitchen countertop directly ahead. Eden guessed him to be the reinforcements, judging from his sour expression and folded arms. Only a hint of light came from the window behind his bulky frame, muted by the height of the courtyard’s brick wall beyond.

‘We were expecting you to report in last night,’ was the first thing Sharner said as Eden approached.

‘I’ve reported in now, haven’t I? Last night I was a little preoccupied.’

‘The rules are simple, Reece. Regular check-ins being one.’

Eden placed the beer bottle on the table between them. ‘Sample of saliva,’ he said. ‘Hair,’ he added, removing the strands from his jeans pockets. ‘And even a blood sample,’ he declared, dropping the section of blood-stained knicker fabric amongst it all. He pulled out the chair opposite the woman and sat down. ‘So how about you ease up on the conditions?’

Sharner frowned as the woman raised her eyebrows, meeting his gaze as she picked up the delicate fabric with her tweezers.

Sharner’s glare snapped to Eden. ‘Tell me you haven’t done anything stupid…’

‘I was a very good boy. I wouldn’t be here now if I hadn’t been.’ He leaned back. ‘She’s strong – easily equivalent to any fit and healthy sixteen-stone male vamp or lycan I’ve ever come across. Not bad considering she can’t be much more than 130 pounds. Even so, I’m not convinced that’s the full extent of her strength. She doesn’t have fangs or extra incisors though, so we can definitely rule out vampire or lycan origin
unless
she’s some kind of cross-breed or mutation.’ He lifted his T-shirt to expose the rapidly healing wound. ‘But at least you’ll be pleased to know she’s definitely what you’re hoping for.’

Sharner’s eyes widened. ‘What the fuck is that?’

‘My warm welcome to Blackthorn via a blade to the abdomen.’

The woman leaned forward for a closer look. ‘That looks at least two days old,’ she declared, the edge of excitement unmasked in her tone.

‘Fortunately it feels it now too.’

Sharner scowled. ‘You got yourself into a fight the minute you arrived?’

‘Yeah, because when volunteers were requested to have the shit beaten out of them I had my hand up like an eager schoolboy. It’s the fucking Circus – you should try it some time.’

The woman’s eyes widened. ‘But she did this? You met her?’

‘I was surrounded. She took out two cons right in front of me. Like I said, tough little cookie.’ He shrugged. ‘Cute too.’

‘She saved your life? Why?’ Sharner asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion, his thinning auburn hair glimmering in the weak streaks of light.

‘I don’t know. Because she’s curious. Because she’s already ensnared by my irresistible charm. It’s probably because she’s not a brutal killer like the rest of them in that place. And I’m working hard to keep her believing the same about me – hence me being a very good boy.’

‘You’re telling me your encounter with her wasn’t a one-off?’

‘Like I said, I’ve been preoccupied.’

‘How? How have you got close to her so quickly? Is Pummel aware of you?’

‘You could say that.’

‘Meaning?’

‘I’ve moved in.’

Sharner’s eyes widened. ‘You
what
? Is that why this room wasn’t touched last night? You’re staying at The Circus? That was not part of the plan.’

‘I improvised. You wanted me to get close to her. You don’t get close to her without getting close to him.’

‘By exposing yourself you are heightening risk.’

‘Or keeping his defences down.’

‘And if your double-bluff backfires?’

‘It won’t. Which is why I’m limiting communication with you unless I have something to report or I need something. The less outside contact I have, the better.’

‘This was not the agreement.’

‘Three days I’ve been given. I don’t have time to argue about this. I bring the evidence, you work out what she is, work out how to get her out, or I get her out my way. Your choice.’

‘Do you know
how
she heals?’ the woman asked, dipping the swab samples into the array of test tubes.

‘No.’

She glanced up at him over her thick-rimmed glasses. ‘You didn’t witness it?’

‘I was unconscious.’

He heard Sharner’s sigh of disapproval.

Eden snatched his gaze to his. ‘Are you planning to get on my last nerve?’

But the woman shaking her head distracted them both. Her frown was deep as she continued to dip the samples in various test tubes and vials whilst scanning the read-outs coming from the metal case her transportable lab was carried in.

‘It’s not matching anything,’ she said. ‘Not vampire, not lycan, no sample of second species blood, not even a trace of cross-breeding.’ She looked back at Sharner. ‘Whatever she is, we don’t have another of her back at The Facility. We’ve either got ourselves a new breed here or something we’re yet to catch and identify.’

Eden placed a mint in his mouth as he masked his edge of suspicion at her claim.

‘Is there anything else you’ve noticed about her? Any clues at all?’ she asked.

He resolved to play careful – give them enough to keep him on the job but not show all his cards. ‘As well as her being able to send volts straight from her hands direct into my heart?’

The woman raised her eyebrows.

‘And what exactly warranted that?’ Sharner asked, his accusatory glare locked on Eden again.

‘Teething pains,’ Eden declared.

He almost didn’t show it to them, but this would be the clincher.

‘Oh, and there’s this,’ he said, taking the now half-empty vial out of his back pocket. He placed it on the table between them. ‘Have you ever seen anything like that before?’

Her eyes flared, then she frowned as she reached for it. ‘No.’

But
he
had
seen that iridescent substance before.

‘What is it?’ the woman asked.

Either she was playing dumb, or secrets were rampant at The Facility.

He shrugged. ‘You tell me. I found it in her room.’

Sharner exhaled curtly. ‘Her room? You were
in
her room?’

This time Eden ignored him. This time Eden examined the woman’s every reaction as she extracted a pipette of the contents.

She dropped it onto the plate, taking a close look at the read-outs.

‘I have no idea what it is,’ she said, this time avoiding eye contact. ‘I’ve never come across
anything
like this before.’

An edge of wariness crept over him, coating the one that he constantly wore anyway. He’d hold back on the contact lens revelation for the time being. ‘Who’s taking the notes?’

Sharner pulled an electronic pad from out of his jacket.

‘As I’ve said, she’s got the strength, responses and agility of a third species, just as you suspected. Apart from those physical clues, socially she’s isolated. From what I’ve ascertained so far, she spends most of her time alone. She may as well be a ghost but, as you can tell from the physical evidence, we can probably rule that one out.’

Sharner glanced up from his electronic pad. ‘Is that supposed to be amusing?’

‘Considering I’m the one risking my arse in there, I think you can afford me some fucking humour.’

‘There is nothing amusing about the gravity of this mission – one we cannot afford for you to mess up.’

‘And as I’ve said from the outset, I do this
my
way. And believe me,
any
way isn’t easy. She
is
surrounded in that place, just as reports dictate. That cocoon Pummel has around her is infallible other than when she opts out of it. Adding to the complication though is that I don’t think she’s there voluntarily.’

Concern flashed in Sharner’s eyes. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘Things she said. And that she was seriously panicked at the prospect of Pummel finding out she’d helped me. That girl could take him on any time, the same as she could walk out of there any time she wanted, but she doesn’t. Fortunately, the one thing that’s working to my advantage at the moment is that if she wanted to expose me, she would have. The longer she leaves it, the more difficult it becomes for her. And therein is the double-edged sword – even if I could persuade her to leave, I don’t know if she can.’