Disenchanted (17 page)

Tudor dumped one by her feet. His
throat was ripped out.

"Now would you take me to
meet your stepmother?"

"She'd probably adore
you." She raised her rifle, pointing it at the only huntsman still alive.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blast your brains to kingdom come
or feed you to my friends."

"The queen plans to kill
you," he gasped.

"Yeah, I saw her status
update. She tagged me in it. Is there a firing squad waiting for me?"

"Poisoned fruit."

Bandit's laugh echoed like a
scream in a crypt. "She thinks I'd eat anything she's touched? The old
queen's going senile." She twirled her finger by her head then prodded the
huntsman with the barrel. "If you tell her you've seen me, I'll make you
my first prisoner when I seize the castle."

"I won't, I promise. She's
crazed with bloodlust."

"She's a vampire? I'll just
use my stake." She tapped his cheek. "Run back to the castle and tell
someone to write her eulogy. Make it a nice poem. I specifically want the lines
'ding dong the witch is dead, Bandit just chopped off her head.'" She eyed
the fallen bodies. "Let me guess – they're my surprise party guests."

"The apple's the back-up
plan."

"I have an idea," Carl
said. "Eat the apple."

Bandit frowned. "That sounds
more like a death wish than an idea."

"If the queen believes
you're dead, she'll drop her guard then we can take her."

"You'd better not be in on
her nefarious scheme just to prevent me from becoming a vampire."

"We want you to be one of
us. This is the best form of attack."

"You'll find an antidote,
right?"

"Of course."

"If I die, I'll haunt your
arses. I won't be one of those friendly visitations. I'll give ghosts a bad
name." She eyed the vampires. "Ryan, you're with me. Let's go make a
peace offering."

They set off towards the castle.
Bandit knocked on the door. A servant opened it.

"I'm here to see the
queen." The servant moved to close the door. Bandit stopped it with her
boot. "We'll wait inside."

She pushed open the door and led
the way into the entrance hall. To the left, stone steps spiralled up into
darkness.

"This is an awesome
place." Ryan looked around.

"It'll be even better with
her buried in the courtyard beneath a statue of me killing her."

The queen arrived, her scowl
blazing a trail. She smiled at Bandit. A smile a piranha would give right
before devouring you.

"Snow
Sh
-
White. What an unpleasant surprise."

Bandit gritted her teeth.
"I've come for a truce."

The queen laughed. "You
don't know what it means."

"It means I don't
stave
your head in over Christmas dinner." She smiled.
"You've failed to kill me three times. Give up and we'll pretend it never
happened. Or I'll have Ryan turn you into a bloody Mary."

Ryan bared his fangs. The queen
stepped back. "A truce." She smiled. "As an apology, why don't
you have one of these delicious apples?"

"A coronation would be
better," she muttered, faking a smile as she took the apple.

Ryan nudged her. She took a bite
and forced herself not to spit it in the queen's face. A wave of nausea
battered her. She crumpled to the floor, the queen's cackling haunting her into
the darkness.

***

Ryan scooped Bandit up and ran
from the castle. Black wings spouted from his back and he flew into the woods.
He landed near the other vampires.

"We need to have a
funeral,"
Iolo
said. "So the queen believes
it."

"Make it a glass coffin, so
the queen can see she's really in it,"
Rhydian
suggested.

"Better hope she doesn't
decompose,"
Jez
joked. "This isn't an
episode of
CSI
."

Carl administered the antidote to
Bandit then gave her a sedative. "That should last 'til we bury her."

"Unless she suffocates
first," Tudor said. "
Bagsies
her swords."

They laid her out on one of their
coffins until they'd made her glass one. It was lined with black satin and
black and blood red roses. They dressed her in a long dress with lace sleeves
resembling wings and lowered her into the coffin. Tudor placed a bouquet of the
roses in her hands then they closed the lid.

"She truly looks like a
Gothic princess," Zack remarked, tossing a rose onto the coffin.

Her pale skin was a
breathtaking
contrast to her black dress and nails. One by
one they placed roses on the coffin then stood guard as the queen came to pay
her disrespects. Wind blew kisses on their skin, gently buffeting the roses. As
dawn broke night's spell, they retreated into the cabin to sleep in their own
coffins, leaving Bandit to sleep like the dead.

Stars glistened in the night's
satin skin like silver bullets to ward off the vampires. They again guarded the
coffin, waiting for her to wake from her eternal sleep.

"You should be out
hunting," a voice spoke.

They glanced at the tall,
muscular guy dressed in black PVC. His long coat sashayed around him as he
walked. His dark hair was spiked. He removed his sunglasses, his crimson eyes
glowing.

"Well if it isn't the
Nocturnal Prince,"
Iolo
smirked. "Run out
of humans in your castle have you?"

"I heard a rumour the king's
daughter was dead, as well as rumours you'd taken in a warrior princess lodger
and were approving her application to becoming a vampire. It doesn't take a
genius to figure out they were the same person."

"Suppose when you've been
alive as long as you have, you pick up a grain of intelligence."

The Nocturnal Prince's eyes
glowed and a small fire erupted beside
Iolo
. He
scuttled closer to Zack.

"She's not dead," Carl
explained. "Just in a deep sleep until the antidote kicks in."

"Open the coffin."

"Why?" Ryan folded his
arms.

"So I can show her my stamp
collection." They glared at him. "Obey me or suffer the
consequences."

Tudor opened the coffin. The
Nocturnal Prince lifted Bandit out. Her head tilted back, exposing her throat.
His pale fingers glided down her soft skin then he lowered her to the floor.
She coughed then retched, the apple piece hitting the floor by her feet.

"Son of a bitch," she
groaned. She suddenly struggled. "Get your hands off me,
perv
."

"I can grant you something
your queen will never have."

"Great sense of style?
Sorry, already got that."

"Eternal life."

She stopped struggling. He
stroked her throat. She looked at each of the vampires. They were smiling,
their fangs beckoning to her.

"You'll stay forever young.
People will tremble before your power. This country's never had a vampire
queen. One bite. I promise, it won't hurt."

"
Finally
!" She tilted her head. "Make me a vampire."

He smiled and lowered his mouth
to her neck. She gasped and tensed as he sank his fangs in, her body weakening
as he drank from her. A ruby jewel escaped, snaking down her neck and chest. He
bit his wrist then put it to her mouth.

"Drink."

She grimaced at the taste then
suddenly craved it. Her body grew stronger the more she devoured his blood. He
pulled his wrist away and she spun to face him, her lips scarlet.

"The Nocturnal Prince."
He smiled.

"Could your parents not
think of a proper name?"

"Could be worse. They
could've called me Snow White." She glowered at him then disappeared into
the cabin, grabbed her weapons and marched away. "Where are you
going?"

"To kill the queen."

"Not yet." He grabbed
her arm. She whirled around. "You need to adjust. Learn to use your
strength and speed first. You're not a vampire yet."

"Do I need a membership
card?"

"You have to die."

She glanced down and saw a dagger
protruding from her heart. It was her last living memory.

***

Bandit leapt from the tree,
landing on the jogger. He hit the ground hard. She yanked his head back, sinking
her fangs into his neck. He gasped as the blood drained from him, down her
throat. She moaned at the quenching of her burning thirst. The Nocturnal Prince
crouched beside the jogger and placed his lips against the wound, gently
sucking.

"How'd I do?" She
asked, wiping her mouth.

"You need more
finesse."

"It's killing, not
dancing."

"You've improved
tremendously. Glad you've cut out the snarling. Nobody wants to hear a princess
growl."

"Can I kill the queen?"

"Yes. But you must learn
style and grace. Monarchs have the right to be murdered artistically, not
butchered by some modern Jack the Ripper."

"I'll work in some fancy
moves."

He laughed as they headed for the
cabin.

A week passed before the
Nocturnal Prince decided Bandit was ready. She armed herself and gathered the
vampires around her.

"
Nobody
kills the queen but me. Her arse is mine."

"
Bagsies
her crown," Tudor said. The others looked at him. "This head was
built for a crown."

They left the cabin and headed
for the castle. Night provided a sable shield against prying eyes. The moon hid
behind a cloud.

In the castle, a lone candle
flickered. Guards patrolled outside, unaware this night was to be their last.

"Ready?" Bandit
whispered. The vampires nodded. She smiled and swung her sword. "Then it's
off with her head."

Tempting Fate

Trees creaked, as though burdened
by the suffering of a witch burned at the stake. Branches' bony fingers clawed
Gypsy's hair, yanking her back to keep her prisoner for the monsters that
prowled the woods after the sun's ruby blood was spilled.

She tugged herself free then ran
on, diving behind a tree before peeking around it. The derelict cottage was
shrouded in darkness. The moon exposed her shadow, betraying her to watchful
eyes. She ran towards it and ducked beneath the windows, listening. She crept
around the corner, climbed the trellis on the wall, eased open her window and
slipped inside.

"If mum catches you, she'll
kill you."

Gypsy smiled wickedly. "Then
it's a good job I have a spy." She tapped Harper's cheeks.

"A
muppet
you mean. There're only so many times I can cover for you while you sneak off
with
Mr.
Arse of the Year."

Gypsy laughed. "I don't
think his arse has won any awards. I would've seen his trophy."

"You already have." He
winked. "By the way, the parents are taking us on their annual 'Survival
Skills and Orienteering' trip tomorrow."

"You mean they're dumping us
in the woods and leaving us for the bears. Why don't they just knife us in our
beds?"

"And ruin the Egyptian
cotton?"

Harper sneaked back to his own
room. Gypsy unzipped her red tartan and black lace dress and slipped off her
fishnet stockings before jumping into bed.

"Harper! What are you doing
out of bed?" Their mother demanded.

"Getting a drink."

"Why are you dressed?"

"Because the woods are full
of lusty princes waiting to catch a glimpse of a pretty young thing like
myself."

"Have you been screwing
strange boys?"

"Chance would be a fine
thing."

Gypsy winced as a loud slap
echoed through the cottage.

"Go and clean the cellar!
You filthy man-whore!"

"Honey, it's midnight, let
the boy sleep," their father pleaded, his voice barely breaking a whisper.

"If he's awake enough to
have some debauched tryst with a woodcutter, he's awake enough to clean. Do you
want your son shacking up with a woodcutter in the middle of nowhere?"

"You did," Harper
retorted.

Gypsy heard Harper stomp
downstairs. She was torn between wanting to rescue him, and not wanting to
admit she had a boyfriend. If she confessed, her mother would probably chain
her up in the cellar after ruining her face so no man would ever look at her
again.

"You dare talk back to me,
you vile prick!"

Harper tumbled down the stairs.
Silence. Gypsy sat up. Harper swore then she heard the cellar door slam. She
listened to their mother ranting and their father quietly begging before
hearing another slap. She rolled onto her side, jamming the pillow over her
ears to block out their father's muffled tears.

She'd wait until their mother was
asleep then she'd join Harper.

A small branch tapped her window,
as if Death himself was knocking to steal her soul away into the night.

***

"Hurry up Gypsy!" Her
mother shouted. "If you want to be out there at dark, don't think I'll
come looking for you."

"Heaven forbid you'd ruin
your manicure." Gypsy smirked as she zipped up her boots and joined her
family by the door.

Her mother grabbed her hair,
yanking her head back. Gypsy grimaced.

"I know you sneak out at
night, you dirty slut," she hissed. "I can
smell
him on you. You think you can have your wicked way with him
and I wouldn't notice? You're nothing but a cheap
whore
. No. You're
worse
.
At least they get
paid
to spread
their legs."

"Leave her alone."
Harper pulled Gypsy free. Gypsy gave him a small smile, feeling even guiltier
she hadn't saved him last night. She didn't deserve him. She deserved to be the
one locked in the cellar. He wouldn't have been punished if it wasn't for her.

Harper and Gypsy followed their
parents into the woods for their annual survival training expedition. Abandonment
more like. The first time Harper had been eight and Gypsy six. Harper had
stolen white stones from their garden and left a trail. Their furious mother
forced him to live in the cellar with the rats for a week. It was the first
time she'd dislocated his shoulder. Gypsy had become their mother's personal
slave. Each expedition, their parents handicapped them. Sometimes they had
their water taken off them, sometimes their food. Maybe this time they'd be
hogtied and suspended from a tree above a pit of lava.

After an hour, they stopped.

"Blindfolds," their
mother said.

"Why not just retreat ten
paces and shoot us?" Gypsy muttered.

Their father blindfolded them and
bound their wrists, keeping his gaze lowered. They were led deeper into the woods.
Gypsy stumbled but her mother yanked her up by the rope. Its fibrous teeth
gnawed her wrists.

"
Ow
!
Dad, Mum's hurting me. Can you tell her to loosen the rope?"

"Don't even think about it,
Malcolm," their mother snapped.

Gypsy sighed.
Snakes
had more of a backbone than their
father did.

Eventually they were dragged to a
stop.

"You know the rules,"
their mother said.

"Count to one hundred then
remove the blindfolds to see what we've won," Harper recited,
impersonating a game show host. "A date with destiny…or death. Ooh."

She rooted through their pockets,
removing their mobile phones, money, cards and the extra phone Gypsy had hidden
in her bra.

They waited, counting out loud.
Trail bikes started and roared away. The woods became eerily silent, as though
harbouring a sinister secret that would still haunt them when the nightmare
ended.

"Most kids moan when their
parents disable their Internet," Harper said. "At least they don't
have to contend with Rambo wannabes." They pushed their blindfolds off and
untied their ropes with their teeth. "We've won first prize – a date with
Death on a scenic woodland walk. Knew I should've picked the other box."

He winced and rubbed his
shoulder. Gypsy saw the ugly bruise on his cheek and looked away.

"Is your shoulder ok?"

"It popped out when I
landed. I put it back in. It's fine."

"I'm sorry."

"It's my fault. I
backchatted
the bitch. Maybe I'll get lucky and find some
deadly nightshade to put in her soup." He smiled then rooted through his
bag. "Shit, my compass has gone."

"I don't suppose you left a
trail of breadcrumbs to lead the vultures to our dying bodies?"

"You're never going to let
me live that down. I've left a trail of ten
pences
,
but ran out a mile back."

"At least the squirrels will
be able to make a phone call."

Harper glowered. "I don't
see
you
contributing to the Save Our
Lives Foundation."

"I texted Brandon earlier
and said 'if you don't hear from me by midnight, send out search and rescue. If
I'm captured and eaten by cannibals because you didn't come, you can forget
about me wearing that PVC
catsuit
'."

"Thanks for spamming me with
that image."

"Aw I'm sorry, did I chase
away your fantasy of being rescued by Johnny Depp on a white charger?"

"It's not his horse I want a
ride on." He winked. She laughed. "This way."

Beneath the corpses of leaves,
concealed roots crouched to trip them. Trees extended their gnarled arms to
ensnare them and keep them captive until new life sprouted from their
decomposing remains. Birds watched as the forest lured them to its dark heart.

After an hour, Gypsy sat on a
fallen log and folded her arms. "Admit it, we're lost."

"We're not lost if we can
still be seen by satellite."

"Harper, we're in woodland,
satellite can't see us."

"Why
d'you
always have to be a gloom cookie? We were walking for two hours, which means
we're halfway home."

"Unless we're heading in the
opposite direction. I haven't seen any of your ten
pences
,
Moneybags."

"Maybe Robin Hood took them.
If you're so smart,
you
pick the
route. Then
I
can whinge about
wanting to be in bed with
Mr.
Arse of the Year."

"He doesn't like boys."
Gypsy poked her tongue out.

Harper tossed a stick at her then
trudged after her.

Night seeped across the sky,
spreading its poison through the light. Its toxins were felt throughout the
woodland, silencing the birds and awakening the creatures of the dark.

"
Now
we're lost," Harper said. "Though I'm pretty sure
your foul temper has been picked up by NASA's thermal imaging."

Gypsy slapped him. "My feet hurt."

"So do my ears. At least you
haven't been up all night, trying to clean a cellar with a dislocated
shoulder."

"I said sorry. You can't
make me feel any guiltier than I do already."

"I'm not trying to make you
feel guilty. I'm glad one of us can escape that shithole. Besides, big brothers
are supposed to protect their wayward little sisters."

"There's a light over
there."

"Ooh, a strange hut in the
middle of the woods. That can't possibly be hiding cannibalistic
inbreds
." He gasped. "Maybe it's housing Snow
White and the seven dwarves!
Pervy
, Sleazy,
Spanky
, Humpy, Gimp, Bondage and Striptease."

"I'm having
Spanky
. You want to get eaten by bears, please
yourself." Gypsy stalked towards the light.

"I'd rather be eaten by
bears than inbred cannibals! Haven't you learnt
anything
from horror films? It's never an easy death!" Gypsy
turned and poked her tongue out. "Gypsy! They have hooks and chainsaws!
Fine! I'm having Striptease!"

Harper growled then jogged after
her. The trees parted, revealing a gingerbread house. They walked across Love
Heart stepping stones to a wafer biscuit porch supported by red and white candy
canes. The roof was covered in a thick layer of icing and chocolate sprinkles
with a Flake chimney. The decking was laid with Kit Kats. The window lead was
liquorice, the door a Penguin bar. A
windchime
made
from sticks of rock swung in the breeze.

"You've
got
to be kidding me." Harper laughed. "If a little old
lady lives here, you're on your own."

"Relax, it's plastic."
Gypsy knocked the door. "See?" She removed the candy necklace
doorknocker and bit it. "Son of a bitch!" She cradled her teeth.

Harper laughed. "Looks like
the money for
your
tattoo will be paying your dental
bill. This is seriously messed up. I bet a
paedo
lives here." He adopted a creepy voice. "Oh
chillllldrennnn
,
don't you want to lick my candy cane?"

"There's an offer I can't
refuse." They jumped. A young man stood in the doorway. He had short, dark
hair, a five o'clock shadow and enticing silver eyes. He wore ripped jeans and
a frayed black t-shirt.

"I wonder if he'll let me
suck his gobstopper," Harper whispered. Gypsy smirked. "Be still my
beating heart."

"Hi. We're lost." Gypsy
smiled. "Do you know the way to
Grimley's
cottage?"

"Sorry, I don't. I only come
out here for a break. I'm in the middle of doing this place up."

She stepped back and looked at
the house. "Thinking of adding a
Smarties
ball
pit?"

He laughed. "I was going to
build a chocolate fountain but I like the ball pit idea."

"
D'you
have a phone we can use?"

"Sure, come in." He
turned and walked away.

Harper grabbed Gypsy's arm.
"I'm not sure about this."

"He's
gorgeous
."

"Exactly. When have you ever
seen someone that hot in real life? It's clearly the work of witchcraft."

"Why aren't you in a secure institution
yet?" She shook her head and entered the house.

"They rejected my
application. Anyway, Queen of Tarts, you're taken."

"That's like saying because
I have a car I can't admire the shiny new ones in the showroom."

"He could still be a
cannibal."

"At least he's not
inbred."

Harper hesitated then followed.
Astro
Belts carpeted the floor. A large ring pop chandelier
with Easter egg lights swung from the ceiling like a condemned man on the
gallows. The stairs and bannisters were crafted from Cadbury's Fingers. The guy
passed Gypsy a phone made out of candy lips.

"How long have you lived
here?" Harper asked.

"It's been in my family for
generations. This is my first visit. My mother didn't want it so she passed it
on to me. This sweet theme's a bit...creepy. I keep expecting to find
Oompa-Loompas
lurking round the corner and bursting into a
song like I'm in a demented musical."

Gypsy dialled Brandon's number.
She held the phone away as piercing static assaulted her ear.

"Sorry, the reception's
terrible. Try that room down there." He gestured to an Animal Bar door.

She opened it and walked down
steps, through another door into a barren room. The door shut. She whirled
around. There was no handle on the inside.

"Do you want something to
eat? Drink?" He asked Harper, leading him further inside.

"We brought supplies."

He eyed Harper. "You need
fattening up."

"I have a great
metabolism." Harper self-consciously hitched his jeans up. "What's it
like living in a gingerbread house?"