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Angus was still alive. He’d been shot in the thigh, but the way that that leg had

crumpled meant that the bone was shattered. Not only would he be in severe pain, he

would also not be able to walk for at least twelve hours. And Jack was coming.

I would need to help Angus out of here, carry him even, but he was so much bigger

than me. I looked at the wounded body of gruff man, wanting to make him pay. And then I

smelled the blood leaking from his wounds, and a primitive hunger overcame me. I let it,

because it had given me an idea. I stepped towards him, removing the gun from his

weakened fingers, just in case. His eyes rolled in panic as I grinned at him, savouring the

moment. I kneeled over his damaged body, forced his head to the left with my left hand,

exposing his neck. And then I bit him, my teeth slicing through layers of smoky skin and

sinewy muscle, and down to that big artery with the name I always forgot. A hot torrent of

fluid poured into my mouth and I drank it, slightly reluctantly at first, then thirstily, until the flow ceased. I stood up then, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. Gruff man was dead. Damn

shame.

Angus had lifted himself on his elbows to see what I was doing. His expression was a

mixture of awe and pain. I smiled at him, and felt the jolt of power as it slammed through

me, almost knocking me off my feet. I fought to control my voice as I said, “Let’s get you out of here.”

I bent down over him, lifted his arms and somehow hauled him over my right shoulder.

It was easier than I thought it would be, but my body still felt the weight of him. I turned

slowly and stepped cautiously onto the first stone stair. I stood there, Angus’ solid body

draped over my shoulder, and flexed my muscles. Another jolt of power shot through me

and I danced up those stairs as if I was carrying nothing. Angus groaned with pain. I lay him

down on the floor of the barn, as gently as I could. “What must I do?” I asked through

clenched teeth, my muscles jerking and twitching as new and extraordinary forces surged

through them.

“Splint,” suggested Angus, also through clenched teeth. I looked around the barn,

noting the dusty implements with their conveniently wooden handles. It took me a few

seconds to dismantle those tools, ripping them apart with frightening ease. I selected three

potential splints from the mangled wreckage that lay before me, and turned back to Angus.

“Belts,” he groaned and pointed down the stairs. I nodded, and leapt down, undoing

the dead men’s belts with twitching fingers, and jerking them out of their belt loops. I

bounded back up those stairs, and fashioned a rude splint with those three wooden handles

and two belts. That done, I looked at Angus’ face. He nodded, and smiled slightly.

“Better,” he sighed.

I grasped his arms again and pulled him back up and over my shoulder. It was easier

this time. I was learning to ride the power, to harness it. It was mind-blowing.

“Where to?” my voice sounded peculiar, like thousands of insects were all buzzing

together in the background.

Angus pointed, and I started loping across the gardens and into the grounds around it.

“Stop,” he barked out. I stopped, thinking I was hurting him beyond even his endurance, but

he pointed to what looked like a scrawny metallic beast in a clump of trees to my right. “Get

the rifle.”

“Right.” I trotted over to it, and handed it to Angus, who disassembled it in seconds,

folding the tripod into a manageable tube. He clutched the rifle, and pointed again. “Go.”

I ran, dodging smoothly through the trees and bushes that were scattered haphazardly

around the grounds, the grassy surface blurring beneath my feet. A six foot brick wall

loomed ahead of us. I considered how to get over it with Angus still on my shoulder. It didn’t seem possible. I gave it an experimental kick, and a jagged crack appeared in the brick work.

I kicked it again, feeling the force of the bricks and mortar resisting my assault. Another kick, and a four foot long segment of the wall crumbled outwards. I grinned, skipped through the

gap and set out again in the direction of Angus’ finger again.

We reached the car in what felt like seconds. Angus unlocked it remotely with the

keychain, and I opened the passenger door and slid him gently off my shoulder and onto the

seat. I lifted his splinted leg and placed it carefully next to the other. It had already stopped bleeding. The rifle went in the boot, and I danced around to the driver’s door and hopped

in.

Angus grinned at me. “Can you drive, love?” That simple endearment sent another,

very different shock through me, and I grinned back.

“Let’s hope so.”

Angus closed his eyes and groaned loudly. “I like this car!” he protested.

“Never mind, I’ve had two lessons.” My voice wasn’t buzzing quite so much now, and

the electrical current that had seemed to be coursing through my body for the past few

minutes was sputtering slightly.

I started the car, found first gear, and pulled away carefully. I was definitely coming

down from my high now. Muscles and bones ached, and I worried now that we would be

pulled over by the police or something. I would hate to have to try to explain the arsenal in

the boot. I drove cautiously at first, then a bit faster. Angus closed his eyes and lay back

against the headrest. I found my gaze drifting constantly to look at his perfect face.

“Watch the road.” His eyes remained closed, but his voice was amused, and a faint

smile curled his lips.

We drove the rest of the way in silence, and arrived back at where the satnav had

started out in just over an hour. As we drew up outside the house, the front door opened

and light spilled out onto the pebbled drive. Mark stood silhouetted in the doorway, his face

tired and drawn. I turned off the engine, and got out.

“Rebecca!” He sounded disbelieving, and then ecstatic.

I burst into tears of relief. He ran down the steps towards me. “Are you alright?

Where’s Angus?” He looked suddenly worried.

“I’m fine, Mark, but Angus has been shot. We need to get him inside.”

Together we helped Angus hobble through the front door, and into one of the

armchairs. His leg had already lost that rubbery look, but it obviously hurt him to put any

weight on it. He subsided gratefully into one of the cracked leather armchairs by the fire.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” Mark was looking at me, horrified.

I glanced down at myself, seeing the blood caked all over my school uniform for the

first time. “It’s not my blood,” I said. I didn’t think he needed to know exactly how it got

there, so I didn’t elaborate. Angus was leaning back in the chair again, eyes closed, smirking slightly.

All at once I felt drained, exhausted, and I stumbled to the other chair and almost fell

into it. Angus opened his eyes, and looked over at me. The fire blazing in the grate lit his

eyes eerily. “Go sleep,” he told me. “This tiredness is normal for what you’ve been through

tonight. There are showers and beds upstairs.” That sounded like a hint to me.

He looked at Mark. “You too, my friend.”

“What about you, Angus?” Mark wanted to know. I yawned.

“My brothers will be here shortly. I need to speak to them. They can carry me up to bed

afterwards. Go!” It was an order. We went.

I showered quickly, jerking awake a couple of times under the hot darts of water, not

even aware that I had been falling asleep. I stumbled into the closest room and dug an

oversized t-shirt and some boxer shorts out of a chest of drawers. I pulled them on and fell

into the bed, asleep before my head touched the pillow.

Angus

Marcus and Fergus arrived at eleven thirty that night. I heard the purring of the great

engine pulling up outside and I smiled. Those two liked to travel in style.

They strolled casually through the front door, Fergus first as dictated by his fidgety

nature. They stood just inside the threshold and sniffed the air cautiously. Fergus spotted

me in the armchair and crossed the room to where I sat, taking in the hole in my jeans and

the makeshift splint.

“You’ve been busy tonight.” It was a statement, not a question.

“One got away. You’ll be pleased to know that decapitation seems to do the trick,

Marcus. I set fire to the heads as an added precaution, though.” Marcus shuddered slightly.

“Rebecca’s OK.” Another statement, this time from Marcus.

“She had her first taste of human blood tonight.” Two sets of raised eyebrows. “I was

shot in the femur, and she knew she would have to carry me out of there. She drank a dying

man’s blood to save me.”

They exchanged a speaking glance and nodded. “Bath first, then bed,” said Fergus. They

carried me carefully upstairs, helped undress me, ran a hot bath, and gently lowered me

into it. They left me while I sponged the vampire stink from my skin, and soaped away the

blood. My thigh was already straight, and felt firm enough, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to

put any weight on it for at least eight hours. I had broken bones before.

My brothers returned within minutes and extricated me from my tub. They propped

me upright as I towelled myself dry, and then carried me to one of the spare bedrooms and

lay me on the bed, covering me with cool sheets.

“Goodnight, brother,” Fergus grinned at me, then turned to Marcus. “Let’s go clean

up.” Marcus rubbed his hands.

“Yes, let’s,” he agreed, and then they were gone.

I woke up worrying about the kitten. And then about Mum and Joe, and how worried

they must be. I should have phoned them last night as soon as Rebecca and I had got Angus

in the house. I thought about Angus and Rebecca and how they had looked last night, all

covered in blood and shot up, and then I started worrying about them too. After a while I

got fed up with all the worrying and decided to go downstairs and find two things;

something to eat, and someone to explain exactly what had happened last night. And a

phone so I could tell Mum we were all OK. Three things, then.

I was rooting around in the kitchen cupboards and the fridge, and had located bacon

and eggs and bread, and was just about to start frying it all up in a monstrous black skillet

type thing I’d found, when someone said, “You must be Mark.” I seriously have no idea how

I managed not to drop that thing on my foot.

I turned and said in a quivering voice, “You gave me a fright.” I hadn’t heard any sounds

of someone approaching at all. Creepy.

“My apologies,” said a tall man with silvery blonde hair and blue eyes. I recognised the

resemblance immediately. He had the same features as Angus, but his colouring was

different, obviously, and so was his expression. This man looked like curiosity would look if it had a human face.

“No problem. You must be Angus’ brother.”

“Yes. My name is Marcus.”

“Aah, the clever one.” Marcus smiled with his eyes, same as his brother. He seemed

pleased that I knew who he was.

“Better not let Fergus hear you say that,” he warned, his lips twitching.

I grinned back. “I was just about to make breakfast,” I said, lifting the skillet onto the

stove.

“Go ahead. Fergus and I have already eaten.”

“D’you think I should make something for…” I pointed upstairs as I spoke. Marcus shook

his head. “They are going to need a few more hours sleep. I actually wanted to tell you that

Fergus and I spoke to your mother late last night, and we told her that we had happened

upon a white van that had been ditched by the side of the road, and had rescued your sister.

She had been in too much shock to give us any details until very late last night, so we hadn’t been able to contact her family until then.

“You, in the meanwhile had gone off with Angus to look for her, and you will be arriving

here in about twenty minutes. We phoned you a bit earlier than your mother because

Rebecca remembered that you were there when they took her, and wanted you to know

that she was OK first.”

My eyebrows climbed up my forehead.

“I know. It’s the best we could come up with now. Rebecca doesn’t want the police

involved at all, and she’s not saying why. She wasn’t hurt, by the way, she’s just a bit shaken up. You wanted to get here to verify our story and see your sister before you phoned your

mother.”

“OK. D’you think she’ll buy it?”

“She has to.”

“Yeah. Is Angus OK?”

“He is. He should be up and about in a few hours.”

“Thanks.”

Marcus nodded, and turned and left as silently as he had arrived. I fried bacon and

eggs, and made a fat sandwich while I waited for the twenty minutes to elapse until I could

phone my mother. I dialled her number a few minutes early, anyway. I was still licking bacon

fat from my fingers. I would have to talk to her about the vegetarian thing. Eventually.

“Hello?” anxiety laced her voice, but there was hope also.

“Hi Mum, it’s Mark.”

“Mark!” the word gushed from her. “Are you with Rebecca?”

“Yes. She’s fine, just shaken up and exhausted.” All truth so far.

She said nothing for a second or two, and then,”Oh, thank God!” and she started

sobbing uncontrollably. I said nothing, and let her cry for a minute or so.

“Mark, is it true that she doesn’t want the police involved?”

“Yes.” Truth. “The guys who took her had the wrong girl, so they let her go, but said if